Mystery
by Marla Fair
Summary: 12 year old Little Joe Cartwright loves black horses, especially the new black mare his brothers found and brought home. Though their father disapproves, Little Joe knows she's the one for him and sets out to prove it. What do an apparition, a burned out ranch, a stolen fortune, a group of desperate outlaws, and Little Joe Cartwright have in common besides trouble? Mystery.
1. Chapter 1

It was a fine spring day. The sun was shining in a clear blue sky, a soft breeze was blowing, the birds were singing in the trees and twelve year old Little Joe Cartwright was kicking up the heels of his brand new work boots as he made his way around the back of the stable. He'd had to get new boots since he'd outgrown the old ones. On their trip to town Pa'd told him that he was sprouting up like a weed, which had brought a big smile to his face until they pulled into the yard and he saw Hoss comin' toward them. A knee-high weed for him was just about toe-deep to his giant of a brother. Hoss wasn't even eighteen and he was already well over six feet tall, which left him, at a little over five foot, feelin' like he wasn't even knee-high to a grasshopper. Adam was tall too and so was Pa. He didn't know what God was thinkin' when he'd stuck him in the middle of a family of giants. Although Emily Miller, who was two years older than him, had told him at the church social the week before while she'd been trying to kiss him that she liked her men tiny and tight and that had made him happy.

Even if he didn't really know what she meant.

He'd been whistlin' a tune as he came close to the stable, but had fallen silent for fear of startling the horses. They had five in the corral right now including a black mare his brothers had brought in about a week and a half before. She was sleek as greased lightning and just about as volatile. He'd tried to talk his pa into letting him take a part in breaking her. Pa'd said the only thing that would get broken was his neck and then he'd said 'no', and then 'no'.

And then he'd yelled it.

 _Really_ loud.

Joe leaned his arms on the railing and stared into the corral. The mare was a good size and powerfully built – just about right for Adam, really – but somehow, he knew she was meant for him. He'd seen it the first time he looked in her eyes. Hoss must have been looking to work with her soon, 'cause her halter was on and there was a lead rope attached. Pa said she hadn't always been wild. It was obvious from her 'demeanor' that someone had tamed her, but she'd either broken free or been turned loose for some reason. Pa said that was the worst kind of animal – one that had tasted freedom and been returned to captivity. He swore she'd never be gentled again. Adam tended to agree with him, but then that was Adam. Mister _'I-don't-take-a-step-without-thinking-it-through-a-dozen-times'_ Adam. Hoss, like him, had taken one look and fallen in love with her. Middle brother said she was a wild thing now, but given time and a lot of love, she'd come around. He and Hoss were alike like that. They always held out hope. Always looked for that miracle.

It wasn't that Pa and Adam didn't believe in miracles. They just believed they happened to other people.

Placing the toes of his new boots on the bottom rail, Joe leaned in and held out his hand. He kept very still and waited for the mare to spot him. She liked him. He knew it. He'd catch her watching him while he was working in the stable, tossing her mane and prancing about like she was showing off. As he stood there, waiting, she stopped moving. The mare whinnied and then, like Emily Miller's older sister, Grace, who was the shy one Hoss was sparkin', the horse came toward him with her head down. Joe kept his eyes on her as she approached and didn't look away, doing like Adam had told him and letting her know who was in charge. She met his gaze firmly for a moment before looking away. A second later she pressed her velvet-soft nose into his hand. Joe waited until he was sure she felt secure and then scrambled onto the top rail and sat there petting her neck, his feet dangling into the corral.

"You're mine, girl," he whispered to her. "I don't care what the others think. You and me, we belong together."

As he sat there, talking to her, Joe heard the sound of approaching horse's hooves followed by his father's voice. Pa had gone to town late the night before and was just getting home. He heard Adam call out a greeting and then Hoss shouted out one too. Joe smiled at the answering yip that came from inside the stable. He and Hoss had finally convinced their pa to let them have a dog and it was obvious Rogue was happy to see pa.

He doubted that happiness went both ways.

Joe rubbed his butt as he pivoted to look toward the yard. He didn't know which was thinner – him or the rail. He was sitting on the back side of the corral, near the back wall of the stable, and he didn't think his father could see him. Still, he figured he had better get down and get back to work before Pa found him not only slacking, but breaking the rules.

Half-sitting, half-standing, Joe turned back to the mare and took hold of her halter, twisting the fingers of one hand behind the leather strap and taking hold of the rope tied to it so he could pull her head in a little closer.

"You're mine," he said again, "and I'm gonna name you. It'll be a secret between you and me. Okay, girl?" Joe thought a moment. "Let's see now. I don't know much about you. I don't know where you lived before or how you came to be wild again. Your whole life's just a puzzle, you know that?" Joe wrapped the rope around his hand as she tried to pull away. Then his young face lit with a smile. "That's it! You're a puzzle.

"How about I call you Mystery?"

For a second, it seemed she liked the name. The mare's large moist eyes fixed on his and in them he saw a desire to tell him her story. Then, like night swooping in on the back of a storm...

She went crazy.

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Ben Cartwright was standing on the porch of the ranch house looking over some figures in a ledger Adam had handed him upon his arrival, when a noise caught his attention. It was that blasted dog Joe and Hoss insisted on keeping. A mutt they'd rather aptly named 'Rogue'.

"What's is that dog barking about now?" he sighed.

As Adam shrugged, Hoss came alongside them. "I just seen him tearin' out of the stable, Pa," the teenager said. "That's a warnin' Rogue's barkin'." Hoss dropped the plank he'd been hauling. "You suppose somethin's upset the horses?"

"Is that black mare still there?" the older man asked.

"She's in the corral. I was gonna see if I could start gentlin' her today."

Ben scowled. "I thought, when I left, I told you to take her out to the north country and let her go. Your brother is too involved with her."

"Ah, Pa. Little Joe's got his heart set on that horse. You know that. He ain't got one of his own since his other fell to the wolves."

Ben shuddered. _That_ was a day he preferred not to remember. It had been the stability – the loyalty of the horse his young son had ridden for nearly four years that had saved his life.

"That mare is not suitable for your brother. It's as unpredictable as he is." Ben paused. The dog was still barkin', only the sound was distant now. A thought flew through his head. He dismissed it as nonsense and then rethought that choice.

After all, it _was_ Joe they were talking about.

"Where _is_ your youngest brother?" he asked, his voice laced with mild concern.

Adam shook his head as Hoss said, "I ain't seen him for a couple of hours."

A second later all three of them were running.

By the time they reached the corral beside the stable, the damage was done. The railing at the back had been broken through. The wood lay scattered along the ground and all five horses were gone, including the black mare.

Rogue and Little Joe were nowhere to be seen.

"Good God!" Ben bellowed as he rounded on his middle son. "Do you see now why I told you to get rid of that horse? She's not only wild, but she's a bad influence on the other animals. Those four were tame as mice and now they're..."

"Pa."

"...out there running wild, and... "

" _Pa."_

"What?!" he shouted as he turned toward his oldest son.

Adam was pointing. The boy looked sick.

"Joe."

Ben drew in a sharp breath. He saw them – first the gangrel dog and then his son. Rogue sat at Joseph's side, guarding the boy who lay face down in the grass about a hundred feet beyond the stable. The dog's coat was a deep brown and Joseph was wearing black today, so they hadn't seen either of them at first. The older man sprinted the thirty yards or so to his son's side and, gently pushing Rogue out of the way, dropped beside his boy and gingerly turned him over. Little Joe was unconscious. Ben frowned at the sight of his son's skinned cheeks, at Joseph's bloodied knees and elbows that shown through the tattered remnants of his shirt and pants. The boy's fingers were bloody as well and clenched tightly as though he had clung onto the horse's reins for dear life. There was also a serious-looking cut above his left eye.

"Is he all right, Pa?" Hoss asked as he reached them.

"No thanks to you!" Ben snapped as he rose with the boy's battered form in his arms. " _This_ is what happens when you choose to disregard my orders!"

The teenager averted his eyes. "I'm sorry, Pa."

"Sorry won't mend your brother's wounds."

His middle son blinked. "I know that, Pa." He held out his arms. "You want me to carry Little Joe in, Pa?"

"I'll carry him," Ben said as he began to walk. "You ride into town and get Doc Martin. Adam?"

He found his oldest son watching him carefully.

"Yes, Pa?"

Ben's lips were a grim line.

"Find that horse and shoot it."

ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

Adam closed the door behind him as he exited Joe's room, leaving Doc Martin with his little brother. Little Joe had been unconscious about an hour and the first thing he had asked about when he came to was that _damn_ horse. Joe pleaded with their father not to shoot it, telling him it had all been his fault. He'd said or done something that had startled Mystery, as he called her, and Pa just had to understand that she wasn't to blame.

Joe's pleas fell on deaf ears.

Before Hoss returned with the doctor, he'd done as his pa said and tried to find the horse. Like her name the mare was slippery as smoke and, even though he'd found some tracks, it seemed she must have taken a flying leap into the air because any sign of her passage vanished at the edge of an awakening meadow of blue and yellow wildflowers. He had to admit there was _something_ about that horse. Joe had called it right. When you looked into her eyes you knew she had a secret and she wasn't telling. Adam ran a hand over his eyes and breathed out a sigh.

He just hoped that secret wasn't going to cost his little brother his eyesight.

Joe had been pulled from the top railing where he sat when the horse spooked. He said he'd had his fingers entwined in both the lead rope and bridle. Unable to free himself quickly enough, his little brother had been dragged over to and _through_ the fence and then across the ground. Joe told them he'd hit his head somewhere along the way, though he couldn't remember when or on what. The blow left him with a swollen and angry cut above his left eye that was quickly progressing into a knot the size of a child's fist. Little brother could see, but he said the world looked like a watercolor wash. Light hurt his eyes. The darkness scared him.

It scared them all.

As he descended the steps, Adam noticed his father sleeping in the red leather chair before the fire. The older man's explosive anger earlier that morning had taken him by surprise. Pa rarely lashed out at any of them and he had been close to cruel to Hoss. Then again, he had to remember that it had been a beautiful and feisty black horse that had cost Little Joe's mother her life. Marie had been dragged too, after her horse had shied and fallen on her.

God, had it really been only six years ago?

Passing his father's quiescent form Adam went to the door, stepped outside, and headed for the barn where he knew Hoss was working. As he had thought all those years ago when Marie died so suddenly, twenty-four-year-old was amazed at the difference a few hours could make. This morning they had been a family – tight, close, bound by love and trust; completely supportive of one another. Tonight, everything was broken, including Little Joe.

Though it wasn't his _youngest_ brother he was the most concerned about.

Adam pushed the barn door open and stepped inside. When he didn't see his brother, he called out. "Hoss? Are you in here?"

At first there was nothing. Then a quiet, "Go away, Adam. I don't want to talk to no one."

He turned a corner and found the teenager sitting on the stable floor. Rogue was draped across his legs and Hoss was petting the pooch's raggedy head. Joe and Hoss had found the dog a month or so back in the aftermath of a flood and adopted it. Rogue was seven shades of brown from the color of mud to a dark shade of coffee. His hair was long and curly as Joe's before a haircut, and somewhere under it there were a pair of big, wet, mournful black eyes.

Mongrel was too polite a word.

"Are you going to sit out here all night and sulk?" he asked.

Hoss shrugged. "Maybe."

"It wasn't your fault, you know?"

His brother's crisp blue eyes flicked to his face and then back to the dog. "Pa don't think that way."

"Pa was angry. You know how he is. He says things sometimes that he doesn't mean, especially where Joe is concerned –"

"Oh, he meant it all right," Hoss countered quickly. "And he's right. I could of got Little Joe killed." The teenager's gaze went to the open barn door, and then beyond it to the house. "Might still."

"The Doc says Joe's in no danger."

There was more, of course, but he left it at that for the moment. Maybe Hoss wouldn't ask about the 'more'.

Those blue eyes returned to his face, hopeful. "You mean Little Joe's all right? He ain't got nothin' wrong with him?"

So much for that thought.

Adam winced. "Well. there's some... _small_...concern about his eyesight."

Hoss let the dog go and stood up. A second later he was looming over him. "What do you mean? You tell it to me straight, Adam."

He touched his forehead. "It was that knock on the head Joe took. There's some worry about swelling and internal pressure. Paul's thinks he'll be okay," he rushed to assure him, "but it may take a little while to be sure."

"What you're tryin' to avoid sayin' is that I may have blinded my little brother."

There was a _world_ of hurt in that statement as big as the budding man who'd made it.

"Hoss, you know how it is. _You_ didn't do anything. It was that mare –"

"The one _I_ kept against Pa's orders. I was gonna tame that horse for Joe." He scowled. "It could have _killed_ him."

Adam pursed his lips. "It won't if Pa has his way. He told me to find and shoot it."

He had never seen his young brother's face so grim. "That ain't your job, Adam. It's mine."

The words were almost a physical blow. His middle brother loved animals and would do anything to make sure they didn't suffer. He'd seen Hoss nurse a horse back to life that everyone else had given up on; seen him lovingly rescue a deer from a hunter's trap – even set a wolf cub free, though he knew it would grow up one day and he might have to hunt it down.

"Hoss. No, it's not. That's not _you._ Let me do it."

The teenager's jaw was set. "No, Adam. I _gotta_ do it. I owe Pa – and Little Joe."

He tried a different tact. "Joe won't be happy if you shoot that mare. He'll hate you for it."

"Hating me's better than him endin' up dead." He paused. "You know little brother. If that horse is alive, he'll go after it."

Adam was silent a moment. Then he laughed.

Hoss glared at him. "You got somethin' funny you know, big brother, you tell me what it is."

"I was just thinking about the name Joe gave the horse."

"What name?"

That was right. Hoss hadn't been in the room when Joe'd told them what had happened. "He called her 'Mystery' and she certainly is that. In spite of what Pa thinks, there's something about her that's...extraordinary. I'm sure it's what Joe sensed. He's a good judge of horse flesh, even at twelve."

Hoss crossed over to the stable wall and took hold of his saddle. With it, he headed for his newest mount, a big black named Chubb. After setting the saddle, he checked his rifle and saddlebags for supplies and then crossed to the cupboard for more ammunition. As he stood there, bullets in hand, his brother turned back toward him.

"The only thing that black horse is, Adam, is a devil."

"I thought Joe said you liked her. That you thought she could be gentled."

Hoss was silent a moment. "You know how it is with women, Adam. There's some of them so beautiful they take a man's breath away. Make it hard for him to see straight." His brother shook his head. "When I looked into that pretty filly's eyes at first, I didn't see nothing but how beautiful she was and how she had fire and spunk just like little brother. The trouble with pretty women is, they know it. They draw a man in and make him love them, and then take what they want and toss him aside like he ain't worth nothin'." Hoss holstered his rifle and then took hold of his horse's reins and began to walk toward the door. "That Mystery, she set her sights on little brother the first time she saw him. I thought it was 'cause she loved the little rascal as much as he loved her. That's why I was trying to change Pa's mind. Now I ain't so sure."

"You make her sound almost human," Adam said as he followed his brother out of the barn.

Hoss's frown deepened. "Maybe."

Adam caught the teenager's arm. "Hoss, are you really going out to hunt that mare down and kill it, or are you just running away?"

His brother stared at him for a moment, then he stepped up into the saddle. From Chubb's back, Hoss answered.

"I guess you'll know when you see me again."

Adam watched him leave and then slowly and thoughtfully walked back to the house.

His pa turned to look at him as he stepped through the door. Paul Martin was with him.

"It is absolutely essential you keep that boy in his room and out of the light," the doctor said. "Little Joe has suffered a blow to the head that has caused some degree of bleeding into, and swelling of the brain tissues. There has been a malfunction of the brain and that's what is effecting his eyes."

"Can he see _anything?"_ His father's voice was ragged with worry and fatigue.

"Little Joe says he can," Paul replied sympathetically. "Shadows and shapes, a little better on the right side than on the left, which is good as it means his dominant side was damaged less severely."

"How long will it take him to recuperate?" Adam asked as he joined them.

"God alone knows. Days. Weeks, maybe. You'll have to expect him to have headaches, Ben, and probably poor balance. And for God's sake, don't let him near that stable or a horse again until he's recovered! Another blow like that could prove fatal."

"You got a miracle medication in that black bag of yours, Paul, that we can use to keep Joe inside the house and out of the saddle?" Adam asked with a wry grin.

"If I didn't believe the cons outweighed the pros, I would leave you with a bottle of laudanum and tell you to give him a healthy dose once a day for at least a week! The best thing he can do is sleep." Paul started toward the door, but then turned back. He looked troubled. "There's another thing, Ben."

"What's that?" the older man asked.

"Joe needs his rest and he's beside himself that you are going to kill the horse that injured him."

His father ran a hand across his eyes. "I want to. I...meant to."

"It's not Mystery's fault, Pa. You know that," Adam said quietly.

The older man pinned him with his black stare. "I know no such thing."

"It could have been the wind blowing something into the corral. Or a banging shudder. Maybe even Rogue. Or Joe himself. You know as well as I do that it takes next to nothing to spook a horse. If we blamed every horse that spooked for what happened, we'd have to get out of the ring."

And yes, that goes for _Marie's_ horse too, he thought.

His father's form had grown rigid. Without warning it, and his anger, bent before his common sense. "I just had to take it out on something. When I saw your brother lying there, I..." The older man sighed. "I feared the worst."

Adam nodded. "I know, Pa. I know it was too close."

The name of the woman he had learned to call 'Ma', whom his father had loved nearly more than life, hung unspoken between them.

Ben sniffed back unspent tears and looked toward the door as if he had only just noticed that one quarter of the family was missing. "Where's your middle brother? I'd have thought Hoss would be here. He has to be concerned about Joe. Come to think of it, I haven't seen him since..."

Adam watched it hit him. The memory of his hastily spoken words.

"Good God," Pa breathed as he headed for the door. "Where is Hoss? I need to talk to him."

"He's gone."

The older man pivoted on his heel. "Gone? What do you mean 'gone'?"

"He went to find Mystery and put her down."

" _Hoss?"_

"He feels responsible. For what happened to Joe."

Paul Martin had remained by the door. He looked them both up and down and sighed. "You Cartwrights, there's a streak of guilt in your make-up that rivals the gold veins found back in '49."

"Adam, you need to go after him."

He frowned. "Are you sure you can handle Joe alone?"

"I'll sit on him if I have to," his father said as he turned toward the stair. Then he halted. "Say, did Rogue go with Hoss?"

"No. Can't you hear him? He's outside on the porch, whining and worrying about Joe."

"Let him in."

Pa had a strict rule about no dogs in the house. No dogs on the furniture. No dogs on the rug.

 _No_ dogs.

"Let Rogue _in?"_

"He'll keep a better watch over Little Joe than I can. Besides, it will give your brother something to do. You know Joseph, impaired sight or not, he'll be stir crazy by tomorrow afternoon."

"Whatever you say, Pa." Adam walked to the door and opened it. Sure enough the mutt was laying on the porch with its unkempt head parked on its shaggy paws. He reached down and scratched what he thought was its chin and called Rogue to follow him into the house. The animal hesitated on the threshold and then tread lightly as they passed his father who now stood by the settee. The mutt had been shooed out of the house with a broom at least a half-dozen times after Joe sneaked it in to sleep with him.

"It's all right, boy," Adam said as they reached the stairs. "Go on up. Little Joe's waiting for you."

At the sound of his friend's name the dog's limp ears drew to attention and he yelped once.

"Good Lord," Adam heard his father sigh as the older man headed to the kitchen to inform their cook of his decision.

ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

In the end it turned out to be the right one. About an hour later Adam went back to check on Rogue and Joe and found them both fast asleep. Little Joe's fingers were twisted in the dog's long brown fur. Rogue's disheveled head was near his brother's chin and one of his large paws rested lightly on the injured side of Joe's face.

It looked like Joe's broken heart might be mended after all.

He could only hope the same thing went for Hoss.


	2. Chapter 2

TWO

Hoss kicked at the embers of the fire he'd kindled the night before. There was some life left in them and he was tempted to throw another log on and linger a little while longer. The morning was dawning and it was a cold one, hearkening back more to the winter that had passed than the summer that was on its way. February and March in the Nevada territory were funny things. They was kind of like a girl. One minute she'd be lookin' at you, battin' her eyelashes and smilin', and the next thing you knew you'd feel the sting of her hand on your cheek.

"That ain't all that's stingin' today," the teenager chuckled to himself as he bent to pick up the pot of leftover coffee he had nestled in the coals. His toes and fingers were. And his ears. 'Course Mama would have told him that was 'cause someone was talkin' about him.

Hoss scowled as he stood with a cup of hot coffee in his hands. He knew right sure who that was.

Pa.

Pa's bein' so mad had spooked him, maybe more than what had happened to Little Joe. Oh, he'd seen his pa mad before, but mostly the older man's anger came and went like a sudden storm, driving hard and then quickly fading away. This time had been different. When they got to the house, Pa carryin' Joe and him and Adam followin' close behind, he got the distinct impression that he wasn't wanted. That's why Pa had sent him instead of Adam to go to town for Doc Martin.

He wanted him out of his sight.

So when he got back he _stayed_ out of his sight. Maybe he washidin' in the barn like Adam said.

Probably, he was.

He didn't never want to see that look in his Pa's eyes again.

Behind him Chubb blew out air and nickered. Then he stamped the ground with his foot. The young horse wanted to get on the move. Hoss tossed the remainder of his coffee onto the embers, watched it sizzle for a second, and then crossed over to the big black animal. Taking him by the bridle, he pulled his head close and rubbed his nose. Then he looked down the long road before him. Adam had asked him if he was heading out to look for Mystery or if he was running away. Truth to tell, he didn't know. He was near eighteen now and old enough to live on his own. He _could_ just ride on, head to a new town, take on a new name and get a job. He'd sure as heck had enough trainin' workin' for his Pa. Maybe they'd be better off without him. Adam was right smart and Little Joe, well, what he lacked in brains, he more than made up in heart. _He_ was just a big dumb ox like the kids at school used to call him. And Pa? Well, him and Adam had more than enough to do keepin' up with little brother. They didn't need to worry about him too.

Yeah, right after he found that mare that's what he'd do. Much as he didn't want to put down a healthy livin' creature, he owed it to his brother. Adam was right. If Little Joe knew that horse was out here somewhere, he'd spend every wakin' minute tryin' to find it and when he did, he'd ride it and end up gettin' hurt or killed and that was somethin' he just couldn't allow to happen.

It would be, well, his partin' gift to his family.

Hoss sniffed and returned his eyes to the fire. He broke some of the coals up with his boot and then poured the rest of his coffee on them. As he stood there, waitin' for the fire to fizzle out, he heard a sound – a high-pitched nicker. The kind of sound that a horse uses to say, 'I'm here!' It brought his head up and he looked.

There, on the horizon, her sleek black coat shining like a rainbow in the dawning light, was Mystery.

Hoss remained still for a moment and then made his way to his horse. He drew his rifle from its holster and walked back, his eyes never leaving the animal that had nearly killed his brother. Once in position, the teenager raised the rifle and sighted along it. It was a clear shot. It would be over in seconds. It...

She...

She was lookin' right at him. Mystery had to know what he was thinkin' of doin' and she was just standin' there, _lookin'_ at him. Hoss lifted his finger from the trigger and ran the back of his hand over his face. He was shakin' like a leaf. The teenager lowered the rifle to the ground, no longer sure he could make it a clean shot and he wasn't about to shoot and miss and leave the horse dyin' in agony.

Mystery nickered again. Quietly this time, not yellin' out a challenge, but kind of sayin' 'hello'. As he stood there, baffled, she left the hillock she had been standin' on and walked right up to him. Hoss winced when he saw the remnants of the bridle on her head and the bit of broken rope hangin' down at its side. He'd seen his little brother's fingers curled up tight with the other end of that rope in them. As the horse stopped before him, he reached for his pistol. Pulling it out of the holster, the teenager aimed it between her eyes.

She didn't move. Only stared back.

Hoss ran a hand across his brow again. He was sweatin' like a pig. "Adam sure was right about you," he sighed. "There's just _somethin'..._ "

The mare bobbed her head up and down, almost as if she understood.

"Ain't no wonder little brother called you Mystery."

It was like night and day. One second the mare was calm as a lake with no wind, and the next she was blowin' like a storm. Hoss backed away as the horse began to buck and then reared up on its hind legs, kicking at the sky.

"Whoa, girl. Whoa!" he said, using the voice that had calmed many a frightened animal. "Whoa, girl. It's all right. Ain't no one gonna hurt you."

It took a few minutes, but in time she calmed. By the time she did, any thought of puttin' her down was gone. Hoss patted her nose, makin' soft shushing sounds, and then looked into her eyes. He saw his own reflection there, pale but determined, but even more than that he saw somethin' in those black depths that shook him to the core. It was a look he hadn't never seen out of a horse's eyes before. It was almost...

Human.

Thinkin' about it, he knew now that was what he'd seen the first time he looked at her. He hadn't been wrong, though what had happened to Little Joe had made him question what he seen.

"You didn't mean to hurt little brother, did you, girl? It was what Little Joe said it when he named you, wasn't he? "

 _Mystery._

"What is it about that name that upsets you, girl? Can you tell me?"

The mare nickered softly as if in reply.

Hoss laughed. "So you're done willin' now to tell me your secret, but I cain't understand what you're sayin'." He patted her nose again. "Now what're we gonna do about that?"

Mystery shook her head and then she broke away. Turning tail, she walked a few yards and looked back at him.

Hoss knew that look. His mama had used it often enough. She'd put her hands on her hips and say, ' _Well?'_

"There's no disputin' you're a female," the teenager laughed as he holstered his rifle and stepped up into the saddle.

"Go ahead, girl," Hoss said as he directed Chubb toward her. "Show me your stuff."

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" _Joseph Francis Cartwright!_ You had better show yourself right now, young man!"

Joe swallowed hard and winced as his father's voice boomed through the quiet house. At his feet Rogue whined, sensing trouble to come. He hadn't had much to eat the night before and his stomach had been growling, so he'd decided to come downstairs and get a snack. Since the light hurt his eyes so much, he'd kept them closed and let the dog lead him, passing quickly through the great room and into the kitchen. He'd been _so_ sure he could make it there and back to his room before his pa found out.

"Joseph! Answer me!"

No such luck.

Catching hold of Rogue's furry neck, Joe let the animal lead him into the hall that connected the kitchen to the dining room. When he felt the light from the window strike his eyes, he halted.

"I'm here, Pa."

He heard his father's sigh of relief. Then his strident steps.

"And just what do you think you're doing, young man? Paul told you to remain in your room."

"Ah, Pa." He knew he was whining, but then why shouldn't he? After all, he deserved better than he was getting. "I'm tired of being stuck in that old room. It ain't..." Joe paused. Best not to add the sin of bad grammar to his other countless crimes. "It _isn't_ any darker up there than it is down here. Besides, no one was around and I was hungry."

There was a pause. "How are your eyes today?"

Joe didn't really know. So far he'd kept them shut mostly because, well, because he was scared. He'd been awake when they thought he was asleep and he'd heard Doc Martin mention the possibility of blindness.

A hand came down on his shoulder. "Joseph?"

Joe started. He drew in a deep breath and then shook his head.

A moment later his father's hand was applied to his back and he was directed forward. "Come with me."

Joe didn't know where they were going, but he thought it was into pa's office. He was sure when his father helped him to sit on the edge of the desk.

"The curtains are drawn. You know how dark it is in here," Pa said. "Son, I want you to open your eyes."

Joe could hear Rogue snuffling around the room. He didn't know why, but the sound leant him some strength.

"Do I gotta?"

"Yes. We need to know what is happening."

Joe squinted and then, cautiously, opened his left eye. Even though the knot was above it, curiously, it hurt less than the other one. Cautiously he opened the right one as well.

"Everything's blurry."

" _How_ blurry?"

Joe thought a moment. He didn't want to scare his pa, but he wanted to be honest. "You know how it is when the wind blows dust in your eyes and they water? Kind of like that."

"So you _can_ see?"

"Shapes, Pa. Shadows. " He lifted his head and looked in the direction of the older man's voice. "I can tell you're there, but I can't really tell that it's you."

The shape moved. A second later there was a familiar _whoosh_ as his father drew the curtains back and light flooded into the office area. "What about now?"

Tears fell from Joe's eyes. It was like someone had taken a spike and driven it all the way through his right eye into his left.

"It hurts, Pa."

His father quickly closed the curtains. A moment later Joe felt the consolation of his father's arms. "I'm sorry, Joseph. I didn't mean to hurt you."

"I know that, Pa." Joe sniffed. As he did, Rogue whined low in sympathy. The thought of the dog worrying about him made his mind go to another person he loved who was in pain. "Just like I know Hoss didn't mean to hurt me by keeping Mystery in the corral."

He felt his father stiffen. "Yes."

"Hoss was awful upset, Pa."

"Yes, I know."

Joe blinked as he tried to bring his father's face into focus. The older man's voice was hard to read. "Are you still mad at Hoss, Pa?"

His father released him. He placed a hand on his head briefly and then dropped into the desk chair. "No. I'm not angry at him anymore – or at Mystery."

Joe brightened. "Really, Pa? You're not gonna put her down?"

There was a hesitation in the older man's voice. "That may be out of my hands, Joseph. Your brother went to do it."

"Adam? Adam's gonna shoot Mystery?"

Another pause.

"No. Hoss."

Those words were a betrayal he didn't quite know what to do with. "Hoss? Why?"

Joe felt his father's hand on his sleeve. "Your brother feels responsible for what happened to you. I'd ordered him to get rid of the horse. He didn't. You were hurt."

"But that's stupid!"

"Joseph, mind your tongue."

"I'm sorry, Pa, but it is. Hoss would never do anything to hurt me. I know that! Is he coming home tonight? Can I talk to him? Please let me talk to him, Pa. Don't send me back up to my room!"

After a moment his father said softly, "That is precisely what I am going to do, young man, if you do not _calm down_."

Joe sniffed in his tears. "Yes, sir."

His father rose to his feet and began to pace. Joe tried to follow him with his eyes, but it was like trackin' a fish underwater – it made him feel sick. "I would let you talk to your brother but, following in _your_ footsteps, Hoss has defied me and left without so much as a word."

Joe blinked. "Hoss is...gone?"

It was one word, but there was a lot of pain in it. "Yes."

He hopped down from the desk and nearly tripped over Rogue who had fallen asleep under his feet. Catching himself, Joe held onto the corner of it. "Pa, we gotta go after him!"

" _We_ will do no such thing. Adam has gone after your brother."

"But, Pa! Hoss needs to hear it from you and me. What if... What if he _won't_ come back?"

Hi father was silent a moment. "Your middle brother is old enough to make his own choices."

Joe just couldn't believe what he was hearing! He opened his mouth to protest, but decided it was useless. When his pa was in one of his moods, getting him to change his mind was like trying to move a granite block with a feather.

"I'm tired, Pa. Can I go lay down on the settee?"

A hand lighted on his forehead. Instantly. "Are you ill?"

Joe shook his head and then winced and wished he hadn't. "It's just my eyes. It makes me tired when I use them too long."

"Headaches?"

"Yes, sir."

"How about your balance?"

Joe shrugged as his father took him by the elbow and helped him over to the settee. "I got down the stairs all right."

"We'll talk about _that_ later. You rest now. That's an order."

He could hear his dog whimpering somewhere nearby. "What about Rogue? Can he stay with me?"

The silence stretched out so long this time Joe feared he'd committed yet another sin.

"He can sleep on the floor by you. No dogs on the furniture."

Joe beamed as he signaled the dog to come lie beside him. "Sure thing, Pa."

"And Joseph, don't you worry about your brother. Adam will find Hoss and he'll bring him back, and maybe Mystery too. I'm sure of it."

"I'm sure you're right," he said as he lay back against the pillows.

"You rest, son. I'm going to –"

A knock on the door cut his father off mid-sentence. Joe sat back up. "Who do you think that is, Pa?"

"You lay down. Try to get some sleep. I'll find out."

Joe watched as the older man opened the door and a tall thin red-headed man stepped into the house. He thought it was Phil Carter, their current foreman at the logging camp. At a glare from his father, Joe scrunched down on the settee and closed his eyes, but he fought sleep, attempting to remain awake so he could hear what the two men were saying. Unfortunately, his eyes were throbbing like an infected wound and he kept drifting in and out.

" _...is it, Phil?"_

" _...need you at the camp, Ben. ...trouble."_

" _What trouble?"_

" _Accident. Martin's dead...need you.."_

" _...Joseph...can't leave him. ...up to you."_

" _No, sir...law's involved...up to you..."_

Joe blinked as the sound of the door opening awakened him. He sat up, opened his good eye, and peered over the back of the settee.

His father was standing with one hand on the knob. The other pulled at his chin. "I suppose Hop Sing can manage. At least for a few days."

"Then you'll come, Ben?"

"I don't see that I have any choice. I'll leave first thing in the morning."

As the two men walked out the door, Joe turned back and rested his head on the pillow. He reached down and caressed Rogue's head as he thought about how it really was like his pa said, God _did_ work in mysterious ways. He'd decided earlier that arguing with his pa about going after Hoss wasn't going to do any good. Pa'd made his mind up. Just like _he'd_ made _his_ mind up that what that meant was that he was gonna have to do somethin' about it on his own. Hoss was good at tracking. So was Adam. But he knew someone who was even _better._

As fatigue and pain rose up once gain to claim him, Joe patted his shirt. As if on command, Rogue stood up and put his hairy paws on his shirt.

"What's say you and me ask if its okay to go fishin' tomorrow after Pa leaves, boy? I bet _you_ can find Hoss before Hop Sing even knows we're gone."

His co-conspirator eyed him, and then he gave him a big wet kiss.

Joe laughed. "Aw! Save it for Hoss."

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When Ben came in ten minutes later he found the pair asleep on the settee. Not having the heart to wake them, he tossed a blanket over both boy and dog. After that the older man headed into the kitchen to talk to his cook and friend about his unexpected trip to the logging camp, completely unaware that the choice he had just made would bring ruin to them all.


	3. Chapter 3

THREE

Adam knelt on the ground, fingering remnants of burnt and coffee-soaked wood. It was a habit of theirs, using the leftover coffee to put out the fire. Pa called it a waste, but the older man did it too.

Usually when Little Joe was making the coffee.

He was pretty sure the camp had been pitched by Hoss. It had all the earmarks of his teenage brother's occupation including several salvaged bird's nests, a beefed-up rabbit burrow, and an imprint of a body in the grass that could have been made by Jack's beanstalk giant when he fell.

Rising, Adam took a step toward Scout, intent on pursuing his brother, but stopped at the sound of someone working the lever on a rifle.

"You just stand still, mister. You hear?" the man ordered.

It was one of those edgy voices. Jittery. Nervous.

 _Young._

"Glad to oblige."

"And get your hands in the air!"

"Now which is it you want?" Adam asked calmly. "I can't stand still _and_ put my hands in the air at the same time."

"No, but you can die for back-talking my little brother," a gruffer, older voice announced to the ominous sound of a pistol's safety catch being released. "Bullet in the brain. Bullet in the back. It's all the same to me."

Adam remained silent for a moment. "Is it all right if I say something?" he inquired as politely as if he were at the dinner table asking for salt.

'What you got to say?"

"That unless you have a very good reason, murdering me is probably _not_ the way to start your day. Since I don't know you and you don't know me –"

"Who says we don't know you?" the older man countered.

He hadn't even considered it. Adam started to turn. "Who...?"

"You just keep your eyes lookin' south, Cartwright. You take a look at us and the next thing you'll see is a grave. One big enough for you and that brother of yours who is nosin' around."

He _had_ to mean Hoss. "You haven't hurt him?"

"We ain't gone near him," the younger of the pair said, his voice pitched high. "He's got that bedeviled horse with him."

"Shut up, you idiot," the older man growled.

"I'm tellin' you, it's possessed. You seen the look out of those black eyes. That ain't no animal lookin' back at you, it's – "

"Shut up! Just shut up."

 _So, the mystery of Mystery begins to unravel,_ Adam thought. These two knew the black mare, but it didn't sound like she belonged to them. Maybe they were the ones who let her go. Or, perhaps, had stolen her and she escaped. Whatever it was, the younger one was scared of her and he didn't think the perceived threat was merely physical.

"Are you saying a spirit lives inside that horse?" Adam asked.

Apparently it was the wrong thing _to_ ask as three seconds later he felt the barrel of a pistol parting the back of his black hair.

"You just keep your mouth shut, Cartwright. My brother's nervous enough without you feedin' his fancy. I keep tellin' him, that horse is just a horse. It's loco cause the woman who owned it was loco."

Was.

"She's dead then?"

He felt the man's breath on his cheek. "Dead as it gets."

Even as Adam opened his mouth to reply, the gun was withdrawn. That should have been a good thing.

It wasn't.

A second later it came down on his skull.

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Hoss followed the black mare for some time. Mystery led him on such a winding path that he had been lost for a bit, but now he knew where he was. He'd been in this area before as a little kid. It ran alongside a small lake whose surrounding hills were dotted with caves, and was known as a place where outlaws and renegade Indians often took refuge. Their pa always worried when they came this way, but both he and Little Joe had been fascinated by the caves and the drawings they found in them. They were high up on the walls and told bits and pieces of the story of the ancient people who had lived there long ago. He and Joe, they'd take turns finishin' up that story, fillin' in the gaps and comin' up with wild endin's – sometimes happy, sometimes sad. Every time they could, they'd get away from Pa and Adam and find a way in. One time they'd found a natural shaft cut into the hillside and had shinnied down it, and from there made their way to the bottom of a tall rocky tower. Little Joe'd gone lookin' for gold, but it was him that found somethin' – somethin' that scared him. It was white and moved like a vapor in the dark. At first he'd thought it was a wild animal, but then it up and reached for him. He'd yelped like a girl, grabbed Joe by the arm and practically shoved him up the shaft, and then the two of them had high-tailed it out of there faster than a man could say 'Jumpin' Jack Robinson'.

Little Joe'd asked, but they'd never gone back.

Hoss squinted against the sun, which was just topping the trees. It was almost noon and he'd been movin' for near five hours now. Since Mystery had backtracked, he figured the ranch house wasn't all that far away – two, maybe three hours on foot. As the teenager thought of home, a pang hit him like a hunger in the belly. He didn't know what he'd been thinkin'. He couldn't leave. He just _couldn't_. Adam would be all right if he did, but there weren't no tellin' what it would do to Little Joe. He'd lost so much already. Or to his pa.

Pa, who'd worry he'd driven him away with his anger.

Hoss looked at the mare again. He'd taken to callin' her simply 'Girl' since she seemed to have a problem with Mystery. "You _sure_ do know what you're doin', don't you, Girl?" he asked as he and Chubb followed her up a rise. "You kept me wanderin' long enough that mad I had on just plain wore away to nothin'."

The horse turned back to look at him. She blew air through her nose and shook her long mane.

"If you don't mind, though, I'd be obliged if you would tell me just _where_ is it you're takin' me." Hoss felt a shiver snake along his spine as he met her too-wise eyes. He didn't know how he knew but, suddenly, he did. "Not back to that cave where I saw that...thing?"

Mystery's black eyes narrowed as she approached, challenging him.

"It ain't that I'm afraid to go back," he told her. "Well, not much at least."

Pa'd told him once that horses weren't smart enough to get a joke.

This one was.

"Well, go on then," the teenager said with false bravado as she snorted and capered. "You take me wherever it is you need to take me, so's I can see whatever it is you want me to see."

Mystery struck the ground with her hoof. She nuzzled his shoulder and whinnied, and then began to walk.

Hoss was sure his pa would think him dumb as a cluck for lettin' a horse lead him into the unknown. Adam would roll his eyes and Joe, well, Little Joe would be laughin' so hard he'd split a gut.

He hoped Little Joe was okay. He hoped his baby brother would feel like laughin' again real soon.

He hoped he'd _see_ his little brother again.

Mystery nickered, impatient.

"Ain't that _just_ like a woman?" Hoss sighed.

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Adam awoke bound and gagged and slung over Scout's back. It was as undignified a position as it was uncomfortable. His face was turned into the horse's flesh, so all he could do was listen. Unfortunately, he could hear at least four horses besides his own, so his attackers had not been alone and he was definitely outnumbered and outgunned. His quick mind liked puzzles – in fact, they fascinated him. Still, he preferred solving them with a pencil on paper while sitting in the big blue velvet chair by the fireplace and not hanging upside-down over his horse's saddle! As Scout plodded on, he considered what he knew. He and Hoss had found the black mare wandering on the range and brought her home. All of them, from Pa to Little Joe, found her both intriguing and just a little dangerous. Joe fell in love with her at first sight, of course, and Hoss, pampering their younger brother as usual, defied their father and kept her in the corral so he could tame her. Little Joe had done something while sitting on the corral fence, accidentally no doubt, to spook her and the mare had dragged and nearly killed him. Pa had blamed Hoss and Hoss had run away. _He'd_ come looking for the teenager, to bring him back home, and accidentally stumbled into a nest of somewhat brutish outlaws who had some connection to the mare. One of them at least thought the horse was housing the spirit of a woman who had died.

Or more likely been murdered.

It was a conundrum worthy of a cliffhanger in one of those dreadful dime novels Little Joe hid under his pillows.

Adam shifted so he could lift his head and look around. They were still on Ponderosa land, down near one of the smaller lakes that was ringed by hills that contained a myriad of caves. The caves were the favorite haunts of outlaws and brigands since there were so many of them the law simply lacked the manpower to search every one.

They had also been a favorite haunt of his younger brothers up until about two years ago.

"Cartwright's awake," one of the outlaws announced.

 _Damn._ He should have kept his head down.

"Don't make no difference. He can't do anythin'," the older man groused.

"What if he tells someone what we're doin'?"

The elder of the pair snorted. "There ain't gonna be no one for him _to_ tell by the time we're done. Him, or that younger brother of his."

The outlaws were threatening Hoss again. Adam hoped they didn't already have him held captive somewhere.

A sudden thought struck him, sending a shudder along his spine. They _did_ mean Hoss, didn't they?

Or did the outlaws have Little Joe too?

No. That was crazy. Joe was home. He was half-blind. Pa wouldn't let a twelve-year-old half-blind boy out of the house.

Would he?

The younger outlaw cleared his throat. "How long until we're there, Earl?"

"Shut up," the other one snarled. "I told you not to use my name."

"Sorry."

 _Earl?_

Did he know anyone called Earl? Adam racked his brain for a moment. The name was familiar. _Recently_ familiar. It took a minute or two, but then he had it. A pair of disgruntled brothers, one older than him and the other about Hoss' age. They'd signed on at the ranch about a week before Mystery arrived. Pa had fired them a few days back. He'd never explained why.

Virgil Stanley and his older brother, Earl.

Adam continued to think things through as best he could as he bounced along on Scout's back. He'd shifted enough that he could watch the landscape pass by so he also made sure to note any unusual trees or rock formations. He was hoping against hope that, when he found a way to escape, he would be able to locate Hoss and the two of them would return home and lead their father and a posse back into the hills to take these men. It _was_ Hoss the men were talking about. It had to be. Little Joe was safe. He was sure of that. Joe wouldn't be stupid enough to try to follow them when he couldn't see.

Adam groaned.

It _was_ Joe he was thinking about, after all.

"God," he muttered under his breath, " _wherever_ that little scamp is, keep him safe."

oooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

Little Joe Cartwright crouched down behind a scrubby bush. His fingers were entwined in the rumpled fur of his dog's neck and he clung to Rogue like a lifeline. All around him were the sounds of late afternoon – wind rushing through the trees, predatory birds calling to one another as they wheeled through the sky, water crashing over rocks, cows lowing and horses neighing. As he couldn't really see – the light kind of blinded him – he found all the noise a little bit overwhelming. More than once he'd thought of turning back, but he just couldn't. He had to find Hoss – _had_ to make his brother know it was okay. As soon as he'd given Hop Sing the slip, he'd held a piece of Hoss' clothing under Rogue's nose and told him to 'seek'. The dog had taken off like a shot, leading him straight into the woods behind the house and then into the trees. He felt bad about tricking Hop Sing – he'd told the Chinese man that he and Rogue were going fishing for the day and that he'd got permission from his father before he left. Hop Sing was busy dealing with a man who had come by the house with a wagonload of goods to trade and he'd just nodded his head and wished him out of his way. He'd have to think of some way to make it up to his friend. Maybe he could do all of Hop Sing's fetching for a month or so.

If he made it back home, that was.

As he and Rogue had moved through the woods, searching for his middle brother, Joe couldn't help but think about Mystery. He was sure she hadn't meant to hurt him. From the first time he'd seen her, he was certain that the mare had wanted to be friends. It was funny, her being bothered by her name. He wondered if it was the actual word that upset her or just the sound of it. _Mystery._ Could've been 'history' or maybe, 'misery'.

Whatever it was, she _sure_ wasn't happy about it.

As Joe sat there, considering what it all meant, Rogue growled low in his throat. The boy caught the dog around the middle and pulled him in close and remained stock-still. Since his eyes had been damaged, Joe's other senses had increased. He heard it too – the sound of men moving through the trees a little ways off to their left. Whispering in Rogue's ear, Joe told the dog to be quiet and then retreated further into the underbrush.

"I thought Earl didn't believe in that mumbo-jumbo you're always spouting, Virg What's this about taking that Cartwright kid and leaving him in the cave with the others?" a man asked.

"Earl believes it, all right. He just pretends he don't. He's seen her same as me and he knows there's only one way to get rid of her."

The horses appeared suddenly. Their riders were almost on him.

Joe didn't breath.

"What makes Earl think this one's gonna satisfy her?"

"He don't. It's that little one she wants. You saw how she took to him. Earl says since we got this one, we'll use him as bait to get the other one."

"What about their pa? Old man Cartwright watches them boys of his like a hawk."

"You just don't get it, do you, Thom? That's where Earl was right smart," Virgil answered. "He took out that lumberjack. Ben Cartwright ain't home. He's heading north to the camp to deal with the trouble. There's no one with the kid but the Chink."

 _Chink?_

A hollow pit opened in Joe's stomach. They were talking about _him!_ But also someone else.

Just _who_ were they going to use as bait?

Still holding Rogue, Joe inched forward, narrowing his eyes and willing them to work. The sun was nearly down and the twilight didn't hurt them as much as the day and so he was able to see. Sort of. There was a third horse stopped just behind the two men who were talking. Someone was bound and slung over its back. A man. A thin man with...black hair. A thin _familiar_ man.

Adam.

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Hoss swallowed hard over the apple-sized lump in his throat. It was late afternoon and the light was dyin', but he could see clear enough where Mystery had led him. It was that lake cave. The one he and Little Joe had played in.

The one he'd run screamin' from after seein' somethin' white movin' in the dark.

It seemed a lifetime ago, but in reality it had been, maybe, two years. Adam had been finishin' up college just about the time it happened. That would of made him about the age Little Joe was now. He'd asked around after they got back to the ranch, but none of the hands seemed to know much of anythin' about it except that there was a rumor that a ghost haunted at least one of the caves. He'd kept askin' all kinds of questions, makin' a nuisance of himself, until his pa caught him at it one day and was mad enough to threaten to tan his hide if he didn't forget about it and get back to work.

The mare was standin' in front of the cave now, waitin'. She'd been all restless energy as they climbed the hill in front of it. Now she was still as one of them statues in San Francisco; the ones that looked so real you checked 'em every so often just to see whether or not they was breathin'.

"What's in there, girl?" Hoss asked, his voice crackin' like it hadn't done since he'd been his little brother's age.

The mare didn't answer, of course. Instead, she shook her thick mane and pinned him with those big black eyes of hers. It kind of reminded him of baby brother pullin' one of his faces. Not the kind that was meant to charm your socks off so he could get what he wanted, but the kind where Little Joe was genuinely troubled and pert near to tears.

There was somethin' in that look of a creature that was livin' a nightmare and just wanted it to end.

"I sure wish you could talk, girl," Hoss said. "I ain't sayin' you ain't got a good reason for me to go in there, but I can tell you, I'd just as soon not."

Still, even as he said it, Hoss' feet were movin'. Land's sake, he was almost eighteen! Old enough to know better than to believe that what he saw in the bowels of that cave all those years ago was anythin' other than somethin' conjured up by his imagination, or maybe just a piles of bones left when some old prospector died in the dark.

Hoss shivered. Maybe _that_ was what Mystery wanted.

Someone to find out which it was.

He was standin' next to the mare now and he looked right at her. "You comin' with me?" the teenager asked, half in jest and half hopin' she was.

Mystery nudged him forward and then turned and disappeared into the shadows cast by the high hill that were as dark as her coat.

Hoss shrugged and moved Chubb into the trees so she was hidden. After he tethered her, he lifted his rifle from the holster, returned to the entrance, and stepped in.

No sooner had the teenager entered the darkness then he heard a horse snort and the sound of multiple riders arriving. As several of them dismounted, he retreated farther into the cave. It had a sort of natural foyer at the front – a space about six feet deep and eight feet wide that was separated from the rest of it by a low-hanging ridge of rock. The opening under the ridge was high enough for a man to walk under, but not by much. Behind it was the bulk of the cave and it quickly plunged down into the earth. Hoss searched the front area quickly and found an outcropping of rock that was big enough for him to hide behind. Then he listened.

"You seen any sign of that loco mare?" a gruff-voiced man asked. "Them tracks of hers was leadin' this way."

"Not a lick or hair. Ain't seen that other Cartwright kid either," a younger voice answered. The man paused and then added, his voice low, "I'm tellin' you, Earl. She's here somewhere. She's gotta be. She's always watchin'."

"OH, she's here all right." The older man paused and then he said, his tone hard. "It won't be long, bitch."

"How come you ain't just shot that animal, Earl?" a third man asked. "A dead horse ain't no threat."

"Don't you think I tried!" Earl all but screamed. "The damn thing won't die!"

"You're crazy as a shithouse rat, Earl."

"And your gonna be dead, Thom!" the older man snapped. "Why don't you just shut up and do what you were hired to do. Then you can take your part of the loot and high-tail it back to Virginny and that ugly woman of yours."

"What I was hired to do? I didn't sign on to kill a kid," Thom countered sharply.

Earl's voice took on an ominous tone. "We ain't gonna kill him. We're just gonna make a nice cozy home for him down there in the dark and leave him there to rot along with that loco horse." There was a pause. "Now get Cartwright off of that horse and make him write that letter!"

Hoss stiffened. Cartwright? He shifted forward so he could follow Thom's movement and saw him go over to a pack horse. Once there the outlaw cut something loose. It fell to the ground with a grunt and a thud. At first, from what the men had said, he feared it was Little Joe. Then he realized the man was too big.

It had to be Adam!

As Thom dealt with Adam, who struggled against him, Earl and Virgil turned and headed for the cave. Hoss look into the darkness behind him, half expectin' to see a white vapor risin' up and swirlin' around.

Sucking it in, he slipped past the rocky outcropping and moved farther into the cave's interior.

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Adam had been unceremoniously dropped on the ground and then rather roughly thrust up against a tree. Both his hands and feet were tied and he was gagged. He'd tried the ropes, but the knots were expertly done and there was nothing he could do to loosen them. The black-haired man watched the outlaws who were with the Stanleys move about, all busy with various chores. The one who was fixing their supper, he noticed, stopped several time to throw a handful of salt over his shoulder as if to ward of evil spirits. Criminals were, for the most part, cowards and often prone to superstition. Something had Earl Stanley convinced that the black mare he and Hoss had brought home was possessed by some sort of malevolent spirit. These men were terrified. So terrified that they were willing to sacrifice the life of a little boy to break free of its spell.

His brother's life.

From what Earl said it seemed the outlaws had meant to kidnap Little Joe, but for some reason the plan had fallen through. In a way, the reason might have been Mystery herself. Joe was obsessed with the horse and he had begged their father to let him do all the barn and stable chores instead of working out in the field so he could be close to her. For some reason, their pa had given in even though he didn't like the mare. Now that he thought about it, his father had kept a pretty close watch on Little Joe the last few days and had seemed nervous when one or the other of them couldn't immediately tell him where he was.

 _Now_ he understood why.

Leaning his head back, Adam pretended to close his eyes but in reality studied the men holding him. One was still working on the meal. Earl and the man named Thom stood off to the left of the cave, arguing. Virgil was pacing back and forth in front the opening, while the two remaining outlaws were moving in and out of the brush surrounding the cave mouth. Adam concentrated on the one closest to hand, trying to make out what it was the man carried. It looked like a rope, or maybe a –

Adam froze.

Something that felt like a wet rug had rubbed against his bound hands.

"What the Devil...?" he mumbled into the rag that was tied around his mouth.

Adam felt fingers move through his hair and the rag dipped a bit. "It ain't the devil, Adam," a hushed voice replied as he felt those fingers move to the ropes that bound his wrists. "It's me. Little Joe."

Adam's eyes closed for real this time. In prayer.

Dear God.

Little Joe.

No...

oooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

Danged if it weren't big brother Adam out there, tied up under a tree! When the two men had come and gone, Hoss had slowly and carefully worked his way back toward the front of the cave until he was about ten feet from the opening. It wasn't easy, since the sun had set, but he'd identified them as the mean-looking pair of hands Pa had hired and fired within the last fortnight. Pa wouldn't say why, so he'd asked Jim Appleby. Jim had stumbled around but finally admitted that one of the men had caught the pair trailing Little Joe home from school one day. So it was funny that it was Adam who was trussed up. But then, if all the outlaws wanted was ransom money, one Cartwright son would do as good as the other. They'd probably thought Little Joe would be less trouble to take since he was just twelve.

Hoss snorted. Showed what them two knowed!

As the teenager watched, his brother Adam shifted, lifting his body up a little higher. Then he seemed to say somethin', even though there was nobody to hear. Big brother had a gag in his mouth but it was a right funny one, with its ends trailin' down on either side of his face like he was grippin' it with his teeth and fightin' to keep it in place. Hoss growled low in his throat as he watched Adam struggle. Trapped as he was in the cave, there weren't much he could do to help. There were just too many men in front of it for him to try slippin' out. All he could do was wait and hope they brung Adam into the cave. Then maybe he could free him and they could overpower the men, jump a couple of horses, and head back to the house to warn Hop Sing and Little Joe. They might even run into Pa on the road. If he knew his father, the older man was probably on the road. His pa would have come lookin' for him, ridin' through the night if he had to, in order to make things right.

Hoss frowned as he saw Adam jerk. Then he understood why. Adam was rubbin' his wrist with his fingers. Big brother's hands were free.

Problem was, the outlaws saw it too.

ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

"He's escaping!" Thom shouted as he drew his pistol.

Earl Stanley whipped around to look at the tree where he'd left Ben Cartwright's eldest son trussed up. _Damn!_ if that boy hadn't worked his hands free and was reaching for the ropes on his feet. The older man palmed his own weapon and started to run as Adam rose and turned toward the trees.

"I got you in my sights, Cartwright," he shouted. "Don't be stupid!"

The dark-haired youth halted and turned back, his hands up. "Don't shoot. You caught me."

Earl scowled. He was givin' in too easy. The outlaw began to move again even as his brother Virgil called out, "There's another one, Earl! In the trees... I think it's the kid!"

Well, he'd be hornswoggled! No wonder Adam Cartwright had his hands free and no wonder he'd been makin' for the trees. With his gun trained on his former employer's oldest son, Earl shouted, "You come on out, boy! I know you're there!"

Adam's skin paled to match the light color of his shirt. "Little Joe run!" he cried. "Run, now!"

"You run, boy, and I'll shoot your brother between the eyes," Earl countered, meaning it. "You got five seconds to surrender, you hear me, boy? On six, your brother Adam's dead. One!'

"Joe, don't do it! Run! That's an order!" Adam shouted.

There was movement behind him. Leaves rustled and a dog yapped.

"Two. Three."

"Adam, he'll kill you!" a small voice cried.

"It's _you_ they want, Joe. Run! Go get Pa!"

Earl took another step toward him. His gun never waivered.

"Four, _Little_ Joe," he said. "Five."

The outlaw put his finger on the trigger and aimed.

"You can just drop that, mister," a quiet, fierce voice spoke from behind him.

The older man pivoted on his feet.

 _Damned_ if wasn't the other one!

"Adam, I got him covered," Hoss Cartwright said as he advanced to the outside of the cave carrying a rifle and aiming it at his heart. The teenager remained close to the hill, careful to remain sheltered from his other men.

"Put your hands up!" he ordered.

"There's five of us, boy," Earl drawled. "All armed. Think about what you're doin'. You shoot me and one of them is gonna take out your big brother there before you can make a move to save him."

"But _you'll_ be dead," the giant teen snarled. "Just _you_ think about that."

The oldest Cartwright son was on the move. Earl watched him stumble due to poor circulation. The boy headed for their cook, who was frozen to the spot, and pulled the gun from his holster.

"Now its _two_ to five," Adam breathed.

"Adam! I only count four men!" Hoss shouted. "There's five outlaws! One of them's missin'!" He looked around, panicked. "Where's Joe? Joe! Come out! Little Joe!"

Earl scoffed as the teenager's eyes widened. The brat came out all right – in Thom's arms with the barrel of a pistol pressed into his prissy pampered curls.

"I'd drop _your_ weapons," Earl said, his voice low and sinister. "Unless you want to see your little brother's brains splashed halfway across the Nevada territory."

The eldest boy went limp. The pistol dropped from his fingers to the ground. "Do as he says, Hoss."

The teenager hesitated. Earl could see it in his eyes. The boy was weighing the threat. He simply couldn't believe a grown man would kill a child in cold blood.

Little did he know.

"Hoss! Drop it now!" Adam Cartwright ordered. "He'll kill Little Joe!"

' _Little Joe'_ was squirmin' like the little monster he was, tryin' to break free. Earl scoffed. The kid had better watch it. For all he'd protested, Thom had killed plenty and he had an itchy finger.

With a sigh, Hoss lowered his rifle and tossed it on the ground.

Earl sneered. It was over. They had all _three_ of Ben Cartwright's boys, but most of all they had the little one. Now that bitch would be satisfied. Now –

Thom yelped.

The brat had bit him!

Thom let out a whoop as he dropped his gun. It went off as it hit the ground, sendin' gun-smoke back into the man's eyes. Earl growled as the idiot flailed around, trying to catch the kid who was slipperier than snot. He'd just have to do it himself! Turning his gun butt first, Earl Stanley charged toward the Cartwright kid.

He was gonna use it to knock some sense into that little son-of-a-bitch's head!

As the outlaw advanced, there was a sound. A shrill scream such as he had only heard one other time in his life. Rising out of the gun-smoke like a wraith, the black mare appeared. She reared up on her back legs and then struck the ground with the sound of thunder. Little Joe Cartwright was on the move. The boy's fingers gripped the horse's black mane as she came down and he swung onto her back easy an aerialist took to the trapeze. The mare reared again, almost throwing the kid off her back and then, to the surprise of them all, plunged into the cave and disappeared.

Adam Cartwright was running too. He shot past shoutin' out something to his brother. The teenager, who was standing by the cave mouth, pivoted on his heel and followed him in.

Earl Stanley's lips curled with satisfaction.

Signaling the man who held the trigger for the charges they had laid along the opening into the hill, the grizzled outlaw told him to let it blow.

He'd be _damned_ if that black bitch hadn't done his work for him!


	4. Chapter 4

FOUR

Ben Cartwright looked up from his cup of coffee. He was sitting near the fire he had built at the side of the road, giving Buck a short rest. He'd pressed the animal hard to keep going through the night and more than half of the new day. He'd heard something. It almost sounded like a muffled explosion. Rising and pitching the grounds in the grass the older man turned toward it, wondering what anyone would be doing blasting out here. This was Ponderosa land, after all. If he hadn't been so worried about Little Joe, he would have gone to investigate. Instead Ben made a note to return once he was sure all was well at home.

The most likely scenario was that someone was looking for gold or silver in one of the lake caves. There were always rumors about buried hoards and hidden veins. Ben's lips quirked at the ends. One of these days some desperate man was going to find something and then their whole world would be turned upside-down. He feared it as much as anything. Men would come in droves to dig and to work the land with no more regard for the earth and its bounty than they would have had for a tic caught lodged in their skin. He meant to leave this land, whole and beautiful, to his sons. It was their inheritance and his legacy and he wasn't about to let anyone devastate it for the sake of greed.

Returning to his horse, Ben checked Buck's sides and his breathing and decided the animal needed a few more minutes. He begrudged it. He was anxious to get home. While there _had_ been a shooting at the lumber camp and a man had died, he had come to find out that it hadn't been as a result of a brawl or a dispute. The man had been standing talking to the foreman one minute, and then dead at his feet the next. The whole thing left him unnerved. It seemed to him that someone had deliberately drawn him away from the house. The first thing that came to mind was the pair of miscreants he had fired the week before. Jim Appleby had come to him, worried about them. It had taken a few minutes to pry 'why' out of him as Jim hated to carry tales and he hadn't seen anything himself. He said one of the younger hands had been coming back from Eagle Station just about the time Little Joe was riding home from school. The man's horse had thrown a shoe and Joseph had stopped to help him and then went on. The hand had taken the horse into the trees to let it drink at a stream when he heard the sound of other horses approaching. He'd looked out to find the Stanley brothers tracking his son.

That was all it had taken. He had fired them instantly.

Joe was a beautiful boy, so there was always the fear that one of the hands would be attracted to him and try something. It was a terrible thing to think about, but life was real, and reality hard. There was also the threat of kidnapping. He made no bones about his love for his sons. It was known he would do anything – pay any amount of money to get one of them back. Little Joe, at twelve, was the most likely target. He knew it. Adam and Hoss knew it.

It seemed the only one who didn't know it was Little Joe.

"They are so vulnerable, are they not? Children," a woman's soft voice asked.

Ben turned on his heel, startled. He couldn't see anyone. "Who's there?" he called.

A young woman with long hair that curled at the ends stepped out of the trees. She was dressed simply in a blue skirt and a patterned blouse with a dark shawl tied over the top of it. Her black hair blew in the wind. She smiled sweetly, though the light of it didn't touch her dark eyes, which were haunted.

"A lovely morning, is it not?" she asked. "Though a bit chilly."

"There's rain in the air," he said, and then felt foolish. It wasn't like she wouldn't know.

"The day is cold, and dark, and dreary. It rains, and the wind is never weary. The vine still clings to the moldering wall, but at every gust the dead leaves fall." She had a Spanish accent and it made her quoting of Longfellow's poem, 'The Rainy Day', charming. After a moment she repeated, "And the day is dark and dreary."

Ben smiled at the thought that he might have just met Adam's soul-sister. Then, he remembered himself. "Will you sit down and have some coffee? It's hot. So is the fire."

"Thank you. No coffee, but I _will_ share your fire for a moment."

Ben followed her over and sat down on the side opposite her "What are you doing out here, if I may ask?"

Those haunted eyes found his face. "I am looking for my son."

"Oh, I see. How old is he?"

"Twelve."

Ben smiled. "I have a boy who's twelve. He's quite a handful too."

"Please?"

He cleared his throat. "Forgive me. From what you said, I assumed the boy had run away."

"Run away? No." She paused. "He is a good boy."

"So is Joseph. Just a bit headstrong. When he gets something in that curly head of his, he's like a bulldog."

"Yes. I know."

Ben eyed her. "I beg your pardon."

"My son," she answered. "He is the same."

Ben studied the woman as she spoke. She was around the age Marie would have been if she had lived. Thirty-three, maybe a year or two more. She was a lovely woman, though that loveliness was marred by a deep sadness.

"May I ask you name?" he said.

"You may," she replied and then her smile broadened. "Terese. Terese Navarra."

"I'm Ben Cartwright. So you are Basque then?"

"My people are."

The Basques were separatists, seemingly eternally at war with Spain over their nation's independence. They saw a few of them in Eagle Station. He'd done business once with a man named Danel Navarra. He wondered if this woman belonged to the same family.

They sat in silence for a minute or two. Just as he was about to break it, Terese did. "Tell me about your children, Mister Cartwright."

"Call me 'Ben', please."

Again that rainy day smile.

"Ben."

"I have three, all boys, ranging in age from twelve to twenty-four. Adam is the oldest and then Eric, though we call him Hoss. The youngest is named Joseph."

"Josépe?" She crossed herself. "After our Lord's father?"

He nodded. "And my own."

"So you are a man of belief." It was a statement, not a question.

"Yes."

"Do you believe in visions, seníor?"

The conversation was getting stranger by the minute. Who was this woman and why was she out in the wilderness alone? _Was_ she alone, or were there others within the trees listening, maybe waiting to strike?

And why was she asking him about visions?

"I do, but..."

" _I_ had a vision." Her black eyes remained locked on his face. "I saw my boy. He came to me. He told me of three like him who are in danger."

Ben felt a chill snake down his spine. "Three?"

" _Si._ They are lost in the dark. They call for their father." Terese paused. "You must not go home, Benjamin Cartwright."

Ben rose to his feet. "What is this all about? I demand you tell me!"

"Find them," Terese said as she too rose. "Find your sons and you will find mine. They are together. Bring them home."

"Madame, I..."

"Find them," she said again as she stepped back into the trees. "I will keep them until you come."

"Madame, I... Wait! I..."

He was thrashing about in the darkness. It was empty.

The woman was gone.

ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

Something struck him on the head. Hoss blinked awake and reached up to stop it. Instead he started a second cascade of stones tumbling down that struck not only his head but his shoulders and hands too.

"Ouch!"

"That you, middle...brother?" a weak voice asked.

Hoss shifted, sending the stones falling to the floor. He looked around for his brother, but there was so much dust in the air that it looked like the aftermath of a battle and he couldn't find him.

"Adam? Where are you?"

There was a fit of coughing. "About five feet...as the...crow flies." It was followed by a weedy laugh. "Too bad we...can't fly. As it is...it might as well...be miles."

Hoss shook his head, trying to work the cobwebs out of it. He remembered holding a gun on that mean-looking galoot who was threatening Little Joe, and then Joe flyin' past him on the back of that _dag-burned_ black mare.

"Little Joe? Where's Joe?"

There was a moment of silence. "He was ahead of us, Hoss."

"Can you see him?"

Of course, it was near pitch-black in the cave. The only light was coming in through a few chinks in the wall of rock the explosion had brought down behind them.

"No."

"What do you mean 'no'?"

Adam coughed again. His chest didn't sound good. "There's...nothing...on the other side of us...but more rock. The ceiling collapsed. If...Joe's there...he's under it."

"God, Adam, we gotta get him out!" Hoss shifted and made to rise.

He couldn't.

It was only then he became aware that his legs were numb. Fear for his baby brother and for himself warred within him.

"Adam, I can't feel my legs."

"Try to...wiggle...one...of your toes."

Fighting down panic, Hoss did what his level-headed brother's voice told him to – concentrated on movin' just _one_ of his toes.

It didn't budge.

"It ain't workin'."

"Could be...blunt-force...trauma. Temporary paralysis." Adam coughed, longer and louder this time. "Wait...and...try it again."

"How are you?"

There was a moment of silence. "Just...dandy."

"You ain't lyin' to me, are you, older brother?"

"Of course...I'm lying." Adam seemed to gasp for air. "There's a...boulder the...size...of _you_ pressing on my chest. I think... I think...I...have broken ribs."

"What was that Earl Stanley thinkin'? How come he wanted to seal us up in here?"

"It has...something...to do...with that _damn_ horse."

Hoss thought a moment. "Joe was ridin' her when he came in here. Wasn't he?"

"Yes."

"So maybe he made it past that pile of rock before it dropped and he's safe on the other side."

"Maybe."

A silence fell between them then, thick as the dust in the air that choked them. Hoss rested his head against the cave wall. He could feel blood running down the back of his hair, probably from a scalp wound. He was dizzy, but more than anything else he was afraid. Afraid for Adam who was obviously hurt worse than he was admittin'. Afraid Joe was lyin', broken, under all that rock.

Afraid he'd never walk again.

"Try...your toes."

"Huh?"

"Try to...move the toes...on your foot...you big...galoot!"

"Don't get cocky! You ain't got the energy to spare." Hoss thought about it hard. He pursed his lips and put everythin' into the effort, as if he was tryin' to keep his seat on a bucking bronco. And he did it.

"Hey! One of them moved. Weren't much, but it moved."

"Try the...other foot."

"You sure are pushy."

"Try...it!"

"Yes, sir," he grumbled as he thought about his toes in a way he had never thought about them before. "The big one moved!"

"Good." Adam paused to draw a breath. "Are you...hurt...otherwise?"

"Got me a scalp wound. Don't seem to be nothin' else."

"Give it a...few minutes...then...try to get up."

Hoss peered into the darkness. Adam sounded like he might not have much more time than that before he passed out.

"Anythin' hurt other than your ribs?"

Again, a slight chuckle. "My...pride."

"Feelin' like an idiot?"

"You might...say that."

The teenager fell silent, listening. "Any sign of little brother yet?"

The heartache in Adam's tone almost reduced him to tears. "No."

"He's on the other side, Adam. I know he is. Little Joe's faster than a jackrabbit and he was on that mare." Hoss paused. "How come you think she ran in here with him?"

"There are...two...possible answers."

"What's that?"

"To save...him or...to kill him."

Hoss puzzled that minute. "What do you mean?" He waited. "Adam?"

"Just...resting. Getting...harder to talk." There was another pause and then he said. "Couldn't...get away. Any of...us. Stanley would have...taken Joe and...killed him."

"We're all gonna die anyhow," he said sullenly.

"Maybe the mare...knows...something we...don't."

He thought about that a minute. "You said to save or _kill_ him."

Adam coughed again. "Stanley talked...about the...mare 'choosing' Joe. Said the only...way to make...her stop haunting...them...was to give her Joe to make up...for what she lost."

"You ain't makin' any sense. You get hit on the head too, brother?"

"I think...that's a given," Adam answered dryly.

"Why would she want Little Joe?"

"I think Stanley...did something...bad. Killed a child. I don't...for one minute...believe the horse is possessed. But Stanley...does. He thinks its super...natural. Can't be...killed." Adam's voice broke and he coughed. "Thought sealing...it in here with another child was the...only way." After another fit of coughing, his brother asked, "Can you...move yet?"

He hadn't thought about it. Now that he did, the teenager could feel pain radiating from his tailbone down his legs. "Dang! I can feel my legs now. They hurt like Hellfire!"

"That's...good. Can you...get to me?"

"I can try."

It took a few minutes, pulling himself with his arms to aid his weakened legs, but he made it to Adam's side. With his hands Hoss reached out, feeling around the boulder that was lodged against Adam's chest.

He whistled. "Dang! That's gotta hurt."

"You are...as usual...the...master of understatement." Adam sucked in air. "Can you...move it?"

Hoss frowned. "I don't think I should by myself. If that things shifts the wrong way, it'll crush you."

"Always the bearer of bad...tidings. Leave...me then. See if...you can find...any trace of Little Joe."

The teenager felt around and found a few smaller boulders and wedged them in beneath the one layin' on top of Adam. "That should keep it from movin'," he said.

"Good...thinkin'."

Hoss touched his brother's face. "Well, we all know who got the brains and who got the good looks in the family."

"Yes. And you...better find him."

The big teen chuckled and then turned to face the wall of stone. It was as if the mountain had moved, dropping to fill the cavern from floor to ceiling, cutting Little Joe off from the surface world. The first thing Hoss did was to slowly move his fingers along its bottom edge, prayin' he wouldn't encounter a hand or a booted foot. When he didn't, he let out a little sigh of relief and then rose to his feet and pressed his lips against the rock and hollered.

"Joe! Little Joe! Can you hear me?"

Nothing.

"Try...again," Adam urged. "He might...just be...waking up."

"Joe! It's Hoss! You in there?" The teenager waited a moment, listening. When there was still nothing, he had a thought. Placing his hands to either side of his mouth, Hoss said sternly and in his loudest voice. " _Joseph Francis Cartwright_ , this is your Pa! You answer me, boy!"

This time there was a groan.

"I heard something, Adam! Did you?"

Adam grunted. "Do it...again."

"Joseph, you answer me _now!"_

It was quiet. So quiet he nearly missed it.

"Pa..."

Hoss bent and grabbed his brother's arm. "He's alive, Adam! Did you hear? Joe's alive!"

Adam cracked a little smile that faded quickly.

"And on the other...side of...two ton of rock..."

oooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

Joe slowly lifted his head. It was about all he could do. He put a hand to it and it came away bloody. Doctor Martin had warned him over and over about hitting his head again and for a moment he was scared, but then it occurred to him that he was in a lot worse trouble than he'd have when the Doc found out about it. There'd been a cave-in.

He was _trapped_ in a cave.

Before him lay a wall of rock comprised of thousands of big and little boulders. Behind him, there was nothing but darkness. Joe swallowed hard over a rising fear. He'd been riding Mystery. They'd moved so fast he'd missed it. The explosion had brought the ceiling down behind him.

Where his brothers were.

Rising shakily to his feet, Joe pressed his face into the rock wall and yelled, "Hoss! Adam! Can you hear me?"

"We can hear you, Little Joe!" his middle brother shouted in return. "Are you all right?"

He hadn't thought about it. Now that he did, he realized everything hurt, but his head worst of all. "I'm okay," he yelled back. "How are you? How's Adam?"

"I'm fine. My legs are kind of wobbly. Adam...he's all right too."

That slight hesitation chilled him. "What's wrong with Adam?"

"I'm...fine, Joe." Adam's reply was almost to low to hear.

"The hell you are!" he shouted back.

"Little Joe, you watch your mouth," Hoss replied sternly. "And don't you go sassin' your elders."

He scowled. They were trapped in a cave and gonna die and Hoss was worrying about manners!

"Can you get out?" he called back.

"I ain't tried the other side," his brother answered. "It looks like less rock. There's chinks with light. How about you?"

Joe turned. It was black behind him, but not so completely as he had first thought. There was a little light filtering in from high up. It was funny. All the time he'd spent in the dark had made it easier for his eyes to adjust. He could actually see better than he had on the outside.

"I can see things."

"Is Mystery there with you?"

He hadn't thought to look for the mare. "I don't think so. Least I don't hear her and can't see her."

There was a pause. "Adam thinks maybe she knows somethin' we don't. Like maybe there's another way out. You remember, Joe, like that shaft we found once. You gotta find her, Little Joe. Find her and follow her."

"You don't think I should wait? Maybe Pa will find us and bring the hands to get us out."

There was a _long_ pause this time.

"From the look of the size of the boulders in this wall, Joe, I don't think you're gettin' out this way."

"Couldn't Pa bring one of the miners and blow it?" he asked in a small voice.

It was Adam this time. His voice, as ever, calm and cool. "No, Joe. It would...bring the cave...down."

Adam would know, being an engineer.

Little Joe's fingers gripped the rock. "Adam, I'm...scared. If I go, I won't be able to hear you. I'll be...alone."

"You find Mystery, Little Joe," Hoss answered. "Find her and then you won't _be_ alone."

"Hoss..."

"Yeah, Joe?"

He sniffed back tears. "Am I gonna die down here?"

"Of course ya ain't, Little Joe," his brother answered cheerfully. "That black mare loves you and she ain't gonna let anythin' happen to you. Mystery knows another way out, I'm sure of it. You find her, little brother."

The tears were falling now, wetting his cheeks. "I'll try."

"Don't you just _try_ You _do_ it, Little Joe! You gotta get out and get help for Adam." Hoss paused. "I wasn't honest with you. He's hurt bad."

"Adam's hurt?"

"Bad. You gotta go get Pa, you hear me?"

Joe's jaw tightened. His fingers formed into fists as he turned toward the dark unknown.

"Okay," he said. "I'm going."

"Take care, little brother. Don't you go gettin' yourself hurt."

oooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

"Mystery will look out for me."

Hoss was standing with his head against the rock wall.

"She sure will, little brother. You go now. Joe? Little Joe?" The big teen waited a moment and then turned toward his older brother. "I think he's gone."

"You think...he bought...that?"

"What?"

"About finding Pa...and bringing...him back...to help me."

He'd had to say something to get Little Joe to leave them. It was one of the hardest things he had ever done. Hoss looked at the rocks he leaned against. Adam had explained it to him. If they tried to blast or even move them, it could bring the whole cave down. Someone was bound to come along and find _them_ , eventually.

Joe would be lost if he didn't find a way out on his own.

The teenager knelt beside his brother. He reached out and placed a hand on Adam's forehead. His brother was clammy and shaking.

He could only hope that whoever it was found them in time.


	5. Chapter 5

FIVE

Ben Cartwright huddled in a nest of creaking branches and budding leaves. He'd tethered Buck to a low bush and then followed the woman's trail as best he could in the dark. She had led him deep into the woods, toward one of the smaller lakes. A light rain had begun to fall and it made a chilly evening even colder. He wasn't dressed properly for the weather and was already shivering. The fire the men before him had kindled looked inviting.

Even if the men didn't.

There were three of them. He'd recognized Earl and Virgil Stanley immediately. The other man with him, if he remembered right, was a drifter named Thom Marshall. He hadn't hired Thom since his quota for the day was full, but Roy had mentioned seeing the man in town and said he was trouble.

At first Ben had expected the woman to be with outlaws. Maybe she was a cook, or even a wife to one of them. But even though her footprints came right up to the edge of the camp, after that they simply vanished.

Earl Stanley, who was the oldest of the trio, was counting out gold pieces. He counted two for himself for every one he gave the other two men. His brother Virgil was half-asleep and hardly paying attention. Thom Marshall was. Marshall's eyes followed every coin Earl lifted from the sack and from the look on his face, he was none too happy with the way Stanley was portioning out the gold.

"I ain't waited two years to be stinted," Thom growled. "How come you get twice as much?"

"Because I'm twice as smart as you, moron."

"I told you not to call me that!"

Stanley shrugged. "If the boot fits."

Thom's gun was out in an instant. "I could just kill you and take it all."

Earl laughed. "Virg?"

Virgil shifted, revealing the gun in his lap and the fact that it was pointed at Thom's gut.

Apparently the younger man was _wide_ awake.

"You'll take what I give you and be happy. Even a quarter of this gold is more money than you could make in a lifetime."

"I got me _nine_ lives to take care of."

"Well, Virg has got him ten bullets, so shut up."

Two years Thom had said. Ben cast his mind back. Where would that kind of gold come from? He couldn't recall any bank robberies in the area at the time and besides, that gold would have been in bars. Maybe a stagecoach robbery or...

Navarra.

The Navarra fortune.

Adam was due home from college and their lives had been hectic, what with all the preparations they were making for his return and the fact that he was arriving during calving season. The sheriff had come out the house and asked him to be a part of the posse that had formed to track down the men who had killed Danel Navarra. He'd had to decline as there simply wasn't time or enough man-power. He'd always felt bad about it, considering the outcome, but at the time there'd been nothing he could do. Danel was a wealthy Basque rancher who lived near Reno. He'd lost his lands due to the Mexican-American conflict, but rumor had it he'd managed to secret away a small fortune in spite of the loss. The promise of so much money had proven too tempting and one night Navarra had been set upon. The men who took him, lynched him, and then ransacked his house. No one knew if they found the money. They only knew the next day that Danel was dead and his wife and only child, gone.

Were these the criminals who had killed Danel Navarra? If so, they were more desperate men then he had first believed. It chilled him to think that they had intended to kidnap Joseph. In all likelihood they would have issued a ransom demand and then killed the boy.

Ben moved in a little closer.

All three men were armed, though Earl's gun belt with his pistol lay coiled on the ground beside him. Ben scowled. If he showed himself, it would be all too easy for one of the men to take him out. He needed a distraction, so he could get the drop on them instead.

"You think those kids are still alive?" Virg asked, a slight tremble in his voice.

"Why? Your conscience botherin' you?" Earl snarled.

Ben's heart plunged to his toes.

 _Kids?_

"Hell, no. I was just...well...wonderin', you know?"

"They got them ten ton of rock dropped on their heads. Would you be alive with ten ton of rock dropped on your head?"

"What about that black mare? Maybe she..."

"There you go about that damn horse again!" the older Stanley snapped. "Wake up, little brother. That horse is dead as those Cartwright boys."

Ben's breath came fast and hard. Dead? His boys... Hoss? Adam?

Dead?

"It was weird the way she ran _into_ the cave instead of away from it. Don't you think?" Thom asked.

"I told you it wanted that snot-nosed kid. That's why Virg and me were gonna take him," the older man snarled. "Well, now she's got him."

Tears pooled in Ben's eyes.

Not Joseph too.

 _Joseph, no, you didn't..._

"I never understood why you thought that horse wanted the kid," Thom pressed. "Seems to me you just ain't thinkin' straight."

"That mare belonged to the Navarra boy," Virgil answered, his voice hushed. "We think the horse thought Joe Cartwright was him."

"You're talkin' hogwash."

There was a click. Earl's gun was in his hand and pointed at Thom Marshall. "Why don't _you_ just stop talkin' all together, moron"

Thom bristled. "I told you not to call me that!"

 _Imbecile._

Ben watched the men start. He started too.

It was her.

Terese.

"Did you hear that?" Thom asked, standing up quickly and drawing his gun.

"Hear what?" Earl scoffed, though his voice shook.

"A woman. She called me an imbecile."

"She's a smart one then," the older man snarled.

Thom pivoted and pointed his gun at Earl's head. "You're gonna shut up, Stanley!"

"Or what?" Earl was still calmly counting coins.

Marshall snarled. "I have had just about enough of _you_ –"

Ben winced. Gun-smoke filled the air. When it cleared he saw Thom Marshall still standing, looking with surprise at his gut.

It was smoking too.

"Damn you..." Thom whispered and then fell backward.

Virgil scrambled out of the way, barely making it in time. "What'd you do that for, Earl? We need him!"

"We don't need no one, kid," his brother groused. "You and I pulled that heist two years ago. We don't need to share with no one. Besides, only you and me know what really happened."

' _I know._

' _Murderers.'_

Virgil spun in a circle. "Did you hear that, Earl?"

Earl _was_ looking decidedly nervous. "Someones playin' with us."

"There's no one left, Earl. You killed them all!"

"Get hold of yourself, Virg!"

Ben watched as Earl rose and crossed to his brother.

He didn't take his gun.

Shifting through the underbrush, the rancher drew closer to the fire. Once in place, Ben hesitated. Virgil was still holding his weapon and could get off a lucky shot.

"There! There! Do you see her?" the younger Stanley shrieked as something white moved through the trees.

Earl turned to look and Ben charged.

It was over a minute later. Earl Stanley lay on the ground, unconscious, his first bullet having creased the outlaw's head. His brother lay beside him, nursing an arm shattered by the second bullet from his gun. Ben crouched and took hold of Virgil. He'd been sick. The younger man smelled of vomit and sweat. The rancher didn't' care. He hauled the outlaw up and drew him in close while pressing the point of his pistol into his cheek and demanded.

" _Where are my sons?"_

ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

He didn't know where he was.

It felt like he'd been walking for hours. There was light, enough for his wounded eyes to see with, but there was nothing to see other than rock and more rock.

And more rock.

Joe'd been calling as he walked. The echo of his words made him kind of dizzy, but he kept calling anyway. At first he just yelled out 'Hey, girl!' Finally, lonely for someone he knew, he'd begun to call out the name he had given the horse, even though he knew – for some reason – it brought the black mare pain.

He was in pain too. As he moved deeper into the cave, Joe began to feel his injuries. He was limping pretty bad. He'd found a gash in his leg and it was bleeding. He'd laughed when he realized he was leaving a trail of red 'breadcrumbs', kind of like Hansel and Gretel, except there was no one to find them. His head was bleeding too, but it wasn't bad. Still, just like the Doc had warned, the second blow had left him dizzy. He'd fallen down a couple of times, but kept getting up and walking and calling. He'd been just about to give up when he heard a noise.

It was a blow – a horse exhaling through its nose without opening its mouth – and sounded like it was twenty or thirty feet away.

"Hey, girl," Joe called. "Is that you? Mystery?"

There was an answer. A shrill squeal followed by a scream.

"I'm sorry," the boy said as he moved forward with his hands extended. "I don't know what else to call you, girl. I could've tried Blackie, or maybe Midnight, but they just ain't you. How come you don't like that name?"

Joe was listening. Trying to discern where the animal was. If it was truly frightened, it could lash out of the dark with its hooves and hurt him.

"Is it okay? Can I call you that? Mystery?"

Something moved beside him. It startled him since he thought he would have smelled horseflesh. Joe reached out and felt the mare's velvet-black coat brush against him. When it did, something broke inside him. Tears poured down the boy's cheeks as he buried his face in her side and suddenly all the strength went out of him.

Joe slid to the floor and sat there, sobbing.

"I gotta...get out, girl," he said between gasps. "Adam's hurt and I need to get Pa. Can you show me? Do you know where that shaft is? The one me and Hoss found? Do you know the way out?"

Joe felt the mare's soft nose nuzzle his cheek, urging him to rise. Mystery nickered as she lowered her head so he could take hold of her mane.

A moment later Joe was mounted. He gave Mystery her lead and let her take him where she would, which was farther down and into the darkness.

ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

Ben left the Stanley brothers trussed up and tied to two separate trees. Injured, they would only have slowed him down. Earl had refused to say anything, but Virgil was the weak link and he'd intimidated the younger man enough to get a general idea of where his boys were. Hoss and Joseph had played in the lake caves as boys – often against his wishes – until one day Hoss had stopped asking to go. He'd never inquired why, figuring something had scared the boy and he'd decided it was too dangerous for his younger brother. The caves were like rabbit warrens, with one connected to another and multiple ways in and out. The Paiutes used them, as did men seeking to escape the law.

An unspoken urgency pressed Ben on. He hadn't even taken time to go back for Buck. In spite of what Virgil said, Earl Stanley continued to insist the boys were dead. Earl was mean as a skunk and about as greedy as they came. He admitted he had intended to kidnap Joseph and issue a ransom demand, and then he was going to kill the boy and leave his body deep within one of the lake caves. The entrance to the cave would be blown, burying his victim and his crime for eternity. Earl had started to shake then and had seemed to lose his grip on reality, shouting that the mare was dead and he was finally free. When he pressed the man to give him more details, the elder Stanley had started mumbling incoherently and in the end, Ben had given up.

The light was gone now except for the stars. The rain had passed and they were brilliant, blazing a path for him as he made his way over the rocky land. The problem was there were so many caves in the area. The only way he was going to be able to tell which one the boys were trapped in was by the fresh rock-fall and he simply couldn't see it. He was afraid he was going tot have to wait until morning and if one of them was hurt badly...

That it might be too late.

As he approached a large hill, Ben heard a faint noise. It sounded something like a woman crying and for a moment he wondered if Terese had returned. It took him a second or two, but then he recognized it. Of course, Joseph wouldn't have left the house alone. His son could barely see. Joe _had_ to have had a helper.

"Rogue? Rogue, boy, is that you?"

The joyful bark that answered Ben made his own heart leap. A moment later he was nearly bowled over as a shaggy mass of thick curly brown fur struck him hard.

He wrapped his fingers in the animal's fur as he knelt beside it. A quick feel told him Rogue was uninjured.

"Where are the boys, Rogue? Do you know? Can you take me to them?"

The dog whined and barked. Then it took off like a shot.

Ben hastened to follow him, paying no attention to rocky ground; all but flying over it in his haste to find his sons. They'd traveled about ten minutes when Rogue stopped in front of a solid rock wall and began to bark again.

The older man ran over to it and pressed his face against the rocks. "Adam! Hoss! Are you in there? Joseph? If you can hear me, answer me!"

Rogue was still barking. "Shush, boy," he said. "I need to hear."

As if understanding, the mutt his young sons loved sat back on its haunches and fell silent.

"Good boy." Turning back, Ben tried again. "Adam? Hoss? Little Joe?"

And then he heard it. A blessed voice.

"Pa? Is that you?"

It was Hoss.

Ben felt the rocky wall with his fingers. There were chinks in it, some of them large enough to work his fingers into. He pressed his lips against one. "Hoss? Son, is that you? Are your brothers with you?"

"Adam's here." There was a pause. "He's hurt, Pa. Real bad."

Dear God!

"Is he conscious?"

"No, sir."

Ben steeled himself. "And Joseph?"

Hoss' silence frightened him. Fortunately, it didn't last long. "He ain't here, Pa. Joe got trapped on the other side of a wall of rock. We...sent him away."

"You did _what?"_

"Adam said there weren't no way to bring down all that rock without bringin' the whole cave downon Little Joe. We was hopin', well, prayin' really, that he'd find another way out. You know how these caves are."

Yes, he did. "You did your best, son." While he'd been talking, Ben had been running his fingers over the stones. In one area, they moved. The older man reached in through the crack under the biggest one of them and wiggled his fingers. "Son, can you see my hand?"

After a moment, Hoss gripped it. "Yes, sir."

"I can just move this boulder. Maybe together..."

He didn't have to say anything more. Suddenly, the boulder started rocking.

"Easy, son. Not too fast. If we do it together, we should be able to move it without bringing any more down."

As they worked at it his middle son said, his voice shaking. "Even if we can shift the rock, Pa, it ain't gonna be a big enough opening for me to get through. And Adam's gonna have to be lifted out."

Ben looked Heavenward. _Help me save my boys,_ he mouthed. _Dear Lord, help me help them!_

"We'll take it one at a time," he replied. "I think there are enough stones loose here to make an opening big enough for you to get out and me to get in. That way I can stay with Adam while you go for help." The older man paused. "Can you do that, son? Are you able?"

"Yes, sir." Hoss' voice broke. "But...but what about Little Joe?"

Ben didn't stop what he was doing. He had to think of Adam first.

"God will take care of your brother," he said at last.

 _You hear that, God?_

 _You take care of my Little Joe._

oooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

Mystery halted and put her head down. They were in a large cavern. Joe could tell by the echoes. It was lit by a pale light that fell from somewhere high above, though he couldn't tell where. After a moment Joe slid from the mare's back and stood at her side, talking softly and praising her for how far she'd brought him. She took it for a minute or two and then pulled away and disappeared into the darkness. As he stood there, straining to see where she had gone, Joe caught sight of something that looked like it didn't belong. It was low and white and was laying near the bottom of a funny looking tower of rock shaped kind of like a throne. Curious, he left Mystery's side and crossed over to it. Bending down, Joe reached for whatever it was. The object was cold to the touch and smooth, though there were bumps at both ends that felt kind of like something that would fit into a socket. He lifted it up and smelled it. It was kind of musty. Putting that piece down, Joe picked up another one and felt something clinging to its surface. This one was flat and concave and there was something stringy hanging on the outside of it, sort of like...

Hair.

Joe yelped and dropped what he now knew to be a piece of a skull. He darted back and then stood there, staring at the sad pile of what had once been a man or woman or...

Beside him Mystery appeared. As the mare whinnied, Joe followed her lead and looked up. There was an opening over his head. Starlight was trickling through it. Something tickled his memory and he recalled the cave he and Hoss used to come to. They'd found a shaft one time that emptied into it.

Maybe this was it.

Joe turned toward the black horse. "Hey! Mystery! You do know the way out!"

The horse didn't squeal at her name this time, but shifted back and retreated once more into the darkness.

Joe squinted. "Mystery? Where are you, girl? Are you okay?"

Something moved. Joe's aching eyes tried to focus on it. It reminded him of a shadow coming over a mountain – black enveloping a deeper black. He blinked, wondering if he was seeing things. But no, he wasn't, because it happened again. Taking a step forward, he called out.

"Mystery? Is that you?"

 _It is I, Josépe_.

Joe froze. Unless the mare had learned to talk there was someone else down here with him.

He swallowed hard. "Hello?"

Whatever it was moved again. Joe thought he caught a glimpse of a woman's face, surrounded by long shining black hair. Then a long slender arm with a bracelet of golden coins reached toward him.

The coins jangled.

 _Josépe. Come._

As he stood there, trembling, the arm vanished. A second later, he heard a familiar sound. Mystery nickered. The mare appeared briefly and then backed off again as if she wanted him to follow.

Holding his breath, Joe did as she asked. He stepped into the pool of blackness and then suddenly – miraculously – was struck by a beam of light that fell through the opening in the ceiling above. It illuminated not only him, but two piles of bones. Joe's breath caught as he spotted them. One skeleton was smaller than the other. A leather belt lay across its narrow hips and there was a boy's hat near its head. The other was larger. A woman by the look of it. Her bones were scattered, but there was one he recognized.

An arm bone with a bracelet of gold coins circling the wrist.

Reverently Joe reached out to touch it, tears streaking his filthy cheeks. "Is this what you wanted me to find, girl? Mystery?"

He was alone.

The mare was gone.


	6. Chapter 6

SIX

Ben ran a hand across his grimy forehead. He had reached Hoss and together they had managed to lift the boulder that was trapping Adam just enough that they were able to drag him out from under it. Then, after making sure his eldest son's condition was stable and that he was as comfortable as possible, he and his middle son had set off into the night. He'd decided they would make their way back together to where he had left the Stanley brothers. He was going to need help if he was going to get Adam out and he didn't want to wait for Hoss to do it. They needed the doctor pronto. Adam was severely injured and he was worried his son would go into shock. Earl Stanley would fight him, but he was fairly certain he could persuade the outlaw to help. The promise of a word spoken to the sheriff that would commute his sentence from death to prison time would certainly be enough.

Ben was vastly disappointed when they arrived and found Virgil Stanley alone.

"Damn!" he muttered.

Hoss looked at him sideways. "You gonna wash your _own_ mouth out with soap, Pa?"

"Forgive me, Hoss. There are times when simple words just aren't enough," he grumbled. "What was I thinking? I shouldn't have left Earl Stanley alone."

"What was you gonna do? You couldn't drag him kickin' and fightin' all the way to the cave. 'Sides, he might have overpowered you."

Ben nodded. At least he had had the foresight to gather up all the weapons and ammunition and toss what he couldn't carry into the lake. Stanley had no weapon. He'd hidden the gold as well, intending to retrieve it later and return it to its proper owner.

"He's unarmed," he agreed. "And probably on the run."

"What about this one?" Hoss indicated Virgil who was laying on the ground gagged and tied and staring at them.

"His right arm is useless. I'll have to go back and take care of Adam myself." Ben looked along the trail that had brought him here. "Buck is tethered back about a half mile. Take him and ride to town. Bring Paul as quickly as you can. Look for us on the road first. If I can, I'll rig a travois and we'll meet you."

Hoss hesitated.

Ben placed a hand on his son's shoulder. "I know you're worried about Little Joe," he said quietly. "I am too. But we have to see to Adam's needs first."

"Sure thing, Pa." The boy started to move away, but then swung back. "Pa, I think there's somethin' might help find Joe."

"What is it, son?"

"The cave. Its the one Joe and I used to play in."

"So?"

"One time, we found this back way in. A natural shaft cut into the earth. It went down about fifteen feet and then there was a short drop." There was hope in his voice. "Maybe Little Joe found it. If he could reach the shaft, he's small enough to climb out."

Ben nodded, suddenly hopeful himself. "It's possible."

"You want me to go back and show you where it comes out, Pa? I think I can find it."

"No, I'll send Rogue to look for your brother. If Joseph is there, he'll sniff him out."

Hoss grinned. "I didn't think of that. I sure do love that dog."

Ben nodded.

He was beginning to love that shaggy fur rug himself.

oooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

It took everything that was in him, but Joe managed to climb to the top of the pile of rocks that looked like a king's chair. He was filthy and covered with bruises and scratches, but he was perched on it now, looking up. The starlight that slid down the shaft hurt his eyes and made them water. Still, in his mind's eye he could Hoss boosting him up so he could take hold of its edge, and the two of them flying out of here fast as jack rabbits..

Little Joe's gaze shifted to the darkened corner of the cave where the skeletons of the woman and boy lay; to where he'd seen the woman's ghost. He sniffed and wiped the arm of his sleeve across his soiled face as tears streamed down it. He wondered how they had ended up dead and buried so deep in the earth, and if anyone had missed them. It didn't take much to guess that the woman and boy had been murdered and their bodies left here so no one would find them.

A crime had been committed and no one knew about it and that scared Joe just about as much as being alone in the dark, seven feet from rescue and barely able to see.

Turning his attention again to the platform he stood on, Joe examined the top of the rocky structure. It was mostly flat, but there was one precarious pile of rocks that would put him high enough to get his fingers on the edge of the shaft and maybe pull himself in. The trouble was, it was unstable and so was he. Hoss had been big enough to put him on his shoulders and let him scramble up, and then strong enough to pull himself after him. He was neither. The only way he was gonna get out was to climb that small pile of rocks and then push off them and catch hold.

Which would make the rocks fall.

He had one chance. Just one.

Joe looked over the edge of the tower he stood on. There was only a pool of darkness.

And a long way down.

ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

Ben knelt on the ground. Upon his arrival back at the cave he'd hunted the area in front of it and had come across some of his boy's belongings. He'd found a bundle of Adam's things abandoned on the ground. Then Hoss's rifle where it had fallen next to the entry to the cave. Last of all was this. The rancher dusted off the small black object as he rose to his feet.

Joseph's hat.

At his feet Rogue milled, weaving in and out of his legs, whining in sympathy.

He'd gone in to check on Adam first. The boy had stirred when he spoke to him, which was a good sign, but his fever was rising and he wasn't entirely making sense. Rogue had been guarding him and had done a good job.

Now he had another one for him to do.

Ben leaned down and let the dog sniff his son's hat.

"Little Joe, boy. Find Little Joe."

A pair of liquid eyes looked up at him – giant black eyes shining out of a nest of unruly curls as thick as his missing son's. The animal hesitated a moment and then he barked, sharp and loud.

"Good, boy. Go! Find Joe and bring him here. Go. Go, now!"

With another bark and a shake of his shaggy mane, Rogue was off.

It took everything that was in him not to follow. Ben closed his eyes and whispered a quick prayer. Wherever Joseph was, he had to believe he was safe and well and that God would hold him until he could put his arms around him again.

A second later Ben Cartwright walked into the trees and began to look for branches strong enough to construct a frame to hold his injured son.

ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

Joe had climbed up onto the smaller tower and was balanced there, terrified. The boulder he was standing on wobbled every time he breathed. Well, not when he breathed really, but every time he shifted or moved his arms or did just about _anything._ He'd been brave enough to reach up one time and his fingers had brushed the edge of the bottom of the shaft. Inches. It was just inches away.

It might as well have been a mile.

In order to reach it he was gonna have to kick off, and in order to kick off, he was gonna move the rocks and plain and simple, he was going to die.

Joe glanced at the area that held the bones again and swallowed hard.

Turning back and lifting his face into the light that rained down the shaft, he told himself to go for it. Just... _do_ it. He didn't have any food or water and he was already feeling woozy. If he didn't get out soon...if nobody found him, he was going to die anyway. A man could only go three or four days without water, and maybe a week or two without food. When Pa did come, he was gonna be worried about Adam. He and Hoss would have to take care of big brother first.

They might not even _start_ to lookfor him for three or four days.

Poised there, literally on the brink of death, the twelve-year-old thought about the one he loved who had gone before. It'd been seven years since he'd seen his mama and already her face was like something out of a dream. If Pa hadn't given him that picture that he had on his dresser, he wasn't sure he'd even remember what she looked like. Sometimes, _in_ his dreams, she spoke to him. But when he woke, he couldn't remember her voice either. It was like, well, like she'd never existed. Like Mama was a thing of smoke just like that ghost that he couldn't quite catch hold of – one that would elude him until he met her again on the other side.

Joe's jaw tightened. Either way, if he made it or if he didn't, someone he loved was waiting for him.

As he steeled himself to jump, he heard a familiar sound. It was faint at first and then grew louder as it traveled down the shaft above him. Joe looked up, blinking, and saw a bushy brown face with big black eyes looking down at him.

"Rogue!"

The dog yelped and barked and pranced in the small space. Then it lost its footing and slid down toward the edge.

"Hey! Boy! You stay still! Don't you try to jump down here!"

Rogue's toes were perched on the edge of the shaft. A small trickle of earth fell and struck Joe on the cheek.

Suddenly, he was terrified the animal would fall. He didn't want Rogue's bones left down here with the others any more than he wanted his own.

"Don't you move, boy! I'll..." Joe gulped. "I'll come up to you!"

As his words echoed around him, Joe made his decision and jumped.

ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

"Adam. Can you hear me, son?"

Adam blinked and licked his lips. Then he frowned. He'd been sitting in a hall at Harvard, working on a diagram, when one of his professors had come over and told him he had it all wrong. The man had gone red in the face as he screamed at him over and over again how brainless he was and how he'd never make a life for himself outside of being a malodorous cowboy covered with filth, reeking of bovine urine and blood. He'd risen to his feet and shouted back, but it seemed the man couldn't hear him. He'd shouted until his throat was hoarse, but it did not good. The professor just turned away. Furious, he'd run after him and caught him by the shoulder and turned him around only to find that it wasn't his professor at all.

It was his father.

"Pa...?"

"Thank God," the older man whispered. "I was afraid I did you harm by getting you out of that horrid place."

Adam blinked again to clear his eyes of tears and grime. It took a moment, but he realized he was outside the cave.

"Are you in pain?"

Was he? He hadn't thought about it. When he did, he realized just how much pain he _was_ in.

"Is Henry Comstock...rich?" he managed with a weak grin.

His father squeezed his fingers. "Good. Well, not 'good', but you know what I mean. It's good you can feel."

He'd been worried about that too. Waking up and being paralyzed, maybe for life.

"Hoss?"

"Your brother has gone to fetch the Doctor. I built this contraption so we can meet them on the road."

Adam's eyes wandered down his dusty frame. He was on some kind of a litter. It was hitched to Sport. His father must have found his horse grazing somewhere.

"Little Joe?" he asked.

There was a pause. "Still missing."

"How...long?"

His father rose to his feet and looked back at the cave. "It's been a full day and a bit more, Adam."

"Joe's...strong, Pa. He'll...be okay."

The older man said nothing as the same scenarios played through his mind that Adam was imagining – Joe laying somewhere in the darkness unable to go on; a second blow to the head having dropped him. Little Joe, walking, falling without warning over the edge of some unseen cliff into a chasm only to disappear forever. Little Joe dragging his body forward, slowly dying of thirst, ranting, out of his head, believing they had abandoned him.

"Joseph is in God's hands," his father said at last. A moment later he added, "I sent Rogue to look for him."

Adam thought he remembered the dog being there. He'd awakened a couple of times to find him licking his face. Apparently Rogue didn't like being alone either.

"He'll...find him. You...know a boy...and his dog."

A slight smile curled his father's lips. "I certainly do now," he said softly.

Adam was frowning. "Pa. Listen."

"What do you..." The older man cocked his head.

"Pa, it's...Rogue."

oooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

Joe dropped onto the earth and kissed it. Then he kissed his dog.

They were out!

For all his exhilaration, he was exhausted and he started to shake the minute the cold night air hit him. Rogue bounded over and landed on top of him and while the dog barked, Joe laughed and cried and then laughed some more as the his dog's prickly tongue cleaned his face like one of Hop Sing's loofah sponges.

Joe caught Rogue's spiraling fur in his fingers. Holding him back, he said, "Hey. Hey, boy! Cut it out. You'll lick my face off!"

Rogue didn't care, he just kept on licking.

Exhausted, Joe lay back in the grass, his hands buried in Rogue's long fur. He had no idea where he was. From what he remembered – and it wasn't much – the shaft in the side of the hill that he and Hoss had found so long ago had been a short ways from the entry to the cave. Somewhere back there his brothers were still trapped. Adam was hurt.

He had to get up and get moving and get them help!

It hurt to climb to his feet. More than he expected. But he did it anyway.

"Come on, boy. We gotta go –"

"You ain't goin' anywhere, you little brat, but to Hell!" a rough voice snarled.

Joe looked up into the face of his nightmares.

It was Earl Stanley.

Stanley reached out and caught him by the collar and shook him hard. As he did Rogue let off a series of low growls and leapt for the outlaw. Stanley kicked the dog hard and sent him flying before turning back to him. The man's eyes were wild. Blood matted his hair and was crusted on one side of his face and he was trembling like someone who had had too much to drink.

"What'd you see down there, boy! You tell me! You tell me _now!"_ the outlaw demanded as he shook him again, hard enough to rattle his teeth.

"Nothing! I didn't see nothing!" Joe shouted back.

"You're lyin' boy! You saw her, didn't you? Her and that prissy whining brat of hers. He fought hard just like you, boy. He fought hard when I took her, but he lost. I took him out." Earl Stanley's hands went to his neck. His fingers began to tighten. "Just like I'm gonna take _you_ out!"

"Release my son!"

The outlaw froze, his hands still wrapped around his neck. Joe was barely breathing. Blackness had risen before his eyes, but now there was something else there – a vision of his salvation.

His pa!

"I said, let the boy go."

Pa had Hoss' rifle and it was aimed at the madman who held him.

"I can snap this boy's neck before you get off a shot, Cartwright," Earl Stanley snarled, his voice low and menacing. "And you know it. Maybe he won't die, but if he lives, he won't be good for nothin'."

Joe stiffened. He hadn't thought of that.

"Pa..."

"Keep quiet, Joseph," his father ordered. "All right, Earl, what is it you want?"

"A horse. Safe passage out of here." The outlaw moved, whirling so fast he couldn't follow it. A second later Joe found himself trapped in the man's arms. The bad man was using him as a shield! "This one's comin' with me."

"No!"

"Yes!" Stanley's hands had moved. One was behind his head now and the other on his throat. "All it takes is one twist, Cartwright." He chuckled, a maniacal sound. "You think I wouldn't do it? I killed a kid with my bare hands before. He's in there." The outlaw indicated the cave. "If you listen real close, you can hear him crying." Stanley's voice grew hollow. "I hear him. Every night..."

"Killing Joseph won't clear your conscience," his father said.

"What makes you think I got one?" the outlaw countered quickly.

Ben Cartwright shook his head. "What you just said, Stanley."

Joe felt the man's fingers tighten on his throat. "Well then, since I'm already damned, one more death won't matter, will it?"

Slowly, Joe's fear was galvanizing into anger. That poor woman and boy laying down there all these years with no one knowin' what happened to them – this man had done it! Bolstered by the rage running through him, Joe started to struggle.

"Joseph, no! Stay still!" his pa shouted.

"But Pa," he managed before Stanley's grip increased, choking off the words and his air.

Unbidden Joe's hands went to the outlaw's fingers and began to claw at them. Beside him, he heard something stir and then a low threatening growl. At that same instant there was a voice – not his pa's, but another blessed voice.

"Pa! Get down! Now!"

The older man didn't hesitate. Joe's eyes followed his father as he dropped to his knees and then rose to see his brother Adam stepping out of the darkness. Adam's eyes fixed on his. _Trust me_ , they said.

There was a shot.

And everything went black.

ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

When Joe woke up he was on his back and the world was moving under him.

"Welcome back," a wry voice said.

He blinked and looked toward the voice. His eyes were all but useless, but he recognized the head of sleek black hair.

"Adam?

That single word cost Joe more than a whole day playing hooky. His hand shot to his throat. Adam caught it and pulled it back and placed it at his side.

"Don't try to...talk. Doc Martin said your...throat is injured, little brother. It may be weeks before you can ask your endless...questions again."

That just wasn't fair! He had so many. Where was Pa? Where was Rogue? Adam had mentioned Doc Martin, so that meant Hoss had made it to town and back okay. What had happened to the bad man who tried to kill him? Was he dead? He didn't remember much, just Adam rising like a ghost out of the dark with a gun in his hand and a shot. What about the other ghost? Who was she? Who _had_ she been? Was she the same lady whose body was laying in the cave with that boy? Who was the boy?

And what about Mystery?

Adam laughed and then winced. "I can see this is going to be torture for both of us."

Joe swallowed. Then he disobeyed. "Are...you...okay?" His voice had the sound of panning for gold and using it was like a smelting fire.

His brother's hand settled on his chest. "Well, I didn't do myself...any good getting up and...moving. The Doc thinks I may be," he paused, "I may be in a wheelchair for a while."

Joe's eyes danced at first with the image of his brother on wheels, and then filled with tears when he realized what Adam had done for him. He squeezed his fingers back.

"Sorry."

"Don't be. It's done. It wasn't you, it was...the cave." Adam looked away. "Can't blame...a cave."

"Hoss?"

"Riding ahead with the Doc."

Joe swallowed again over agony. "Pa?"

"Didn't I...say no questions?"

He pulled a face.

"You're hopeless. Once he knew you were all right...Pa went ahead of us to take...Earl Stanley's brother to the sheriff...and Earl to the undertaker."

His eyes asked the next question. _Am_ I all right?

Adam got it. "Paul thinks you did pretty good...though he said he was...tempted to brain you a third time for reinjuring your head. You have a...long convalescence ahead of you, little brother."

Joe closed his eyes. All those questions that had been spinning around in his head seemed less important now. He was tired. He just wanted to sleep.

A hand shook him. "Sorry. The Doc said if you woke up I was to...keep you awake if I could."

"Then," the fire came again as he spoke, "tell him...you...couldn't..."

Adam laughed. "How about if I sing?"

Joe scowled. That would only _put_ him to sleep.

"You...ain't got...a...guitar."

His older brother smiled. "Oh, I have something...much better." Adam cleared his throat and began to sing. It was a soft sound, made even softer than usual by his lack of breath and fatigue. Joe felt himself drifting off – until Adam's accompaniment started.

The shaggy mound of fur beside him shifted and lifted its head. It looked at him and then at Adam and then began to howl to beat the band.

It hurt to laugh – for both of them.

But they did it anyhow.


	7. Chapter 7

EPILOGUE

Ben Cartwright hooked his finger in the book he held and thought about the words he had just read on the printed page.

oooooo

 _It rains, and the wind is never weary;_ _  
The vine still clings to the mouldering wall,_ _  
But at every gust the dead leaves fall,_ _  
And the day is dark and dreary._ __

 _My life is cold, and dark, and dreary;_ _  
It rains, and the wind is never weary;_ _  
My thoughts still cling to the mouldering past,_ _  
But the hopes of youth fall thick in the blast,_ _  
And the days are dark and dreary._ __

 _Be still, sad heart, and cease repining;_ _  
Behind the clouds is the sun still shining;_ _  
Thy fate is the common fate of all,_ _  
Into each life some rain must fall,_ _  
Some days must be dark and dreary._

oooooo

With a sigh, he put the book down and ran a hand across his eyes.Four weeks had passed and his sons were on the mend. Adam had been granted permission by Paul Martin to leave his wheelchair behind a few days before and was on his feet again, though his eldest had said that if he'd known his legs and Little Joe's throat were going to sort themselves out at the same time, he might have stayed in it so he could have wheeled himself away faster. Joe was an endless tide of questions, some of which he had managed to find the answers to while his boys had mended.

The tragic story he'd recalled about the Navarra family was indeed the source of all their woes. Even though the Mexican-American war had ended in 1848, its repercussions were felt to this day. Danel Navarre had managed to hang onto his land and money after the war for a few years – early on they had even done some business together – but he had lost it in time, and then lost his life to a mob of men whose brothers and fathers had fallen in the war and who were looking to take his treasure in recompense. They set fire to Navarra's home, released all his cattle, stole several horses, and kidnapped Danel's young wife and son. Danel's wife had been a beautiful woman; a typical dark-eyed Spanish beauty with olive skin and flashing black eyes. Her hair had been a wave of shimmering black that curled lightly at the ends. Her son's hair was curly as well; a mass of black spirals that, from what Ben remembered, had rivaled his own son's.

When the raid took place, Josépe Navarra would have been twelve years old just as Joe was now. There was some question as to why the boy had simply not been killed, considering the outlaws intentions for his mother. But for some reason he wasn't, or at least so it was believed since neither of their bodies had been found.

Until now.

Ben thought of Hoss and smiled as he remembered his reconciliation with his teenage son. He'd apologized for the hasty words he spoke when Joseph was injured and Hoss, being the gentle soul he was, had easily and readily forgiven him. The boy was still quite shaken by what had happened. He knew now that he had stumbled on the Navarra's bones all those years ago while exploring the lake cave with his brother, but had not understood what he'd seen.

Shyly, the boy told him he'd thought it was a ghost.

The older man's dark eyes went to his youngest son where he lay sleeping on the settee, his tousled curls showing above the blanket he had covered him with. Unlike Hoss, Little Joe didn't _think_ he'd seen a ghost. He was _convinced_ of it. Just as he was convinced that the black mare that had nearly killed him had, in reality, saved his life. The boy had taken a second blow to the head in the cave-in, so it was doubtful that much of what he remembered was true. Still, Joseph told them about how the mare had sought him out, and how she had rescued him from the Stanleys. He explained how she had led him to the shaft that he and Hoss had discovered all those years ago so he could escape.

Sadly, such tales were proof that the boy's memory was faulty. He hadn't had the heart to tell Joseph the truth. When they'd finally had time to explore the chamber Hoss and Adam had been trapped in and examined the stone wall created by the explosion, they had found the black mare – they had found Mystery – buried under a ton of rock.

Ben sighed. According to Virgil Stanley, whose story rivaled Joseph's for being fantastic, he and his brother had taken Mrs. Navarra and her son to the cave after they'd killed her husband. Earl Stanley was an evil man and he had his way with her – in front of the boy. Josépe had attacked him and been killed, and then the outlaws had murdered the woman too and left the mother and son's bodies in the cave, believing no one would ever find them. The money they had taken from the Navarras they had buried nearby with the intention of returning several years later to dig it up and divide up the spoils. After that, they rode away on the horses they had stolen.

One of the animals was Josépe's, a sleek black mare named Beltza, which was the Basque word for 'night'. Virgil said when they emerged from the cave, after killing the woman and boy, the horse went mad. It broke free and ran off into the night, they thought to disappear forever. But no matter where they went, there Beltza was. Virgil said sometimes the mare was alone, and sometimes there was a dark-haired woman riding on her back. He believed the spirit of Mrs. Navarra and the horse became one at times and that she watched them, waiting for them to return to the scene of their crime.

Virgil said it slowly drove his older brother mad. Earl came to believe that they had to give the woman what she wanted in order to be rid of her. He'd made a wristlet of some of the gold coins and put it on her skeletal wrist, so she'd have her treasure. Then it had become fixed in his mind that he had to restore her son to her. Earl had chosen Joseph since his son resembled the boy and was about the same age and it seemed the mare was taken with him. He intended to kidnap Little Joe, ask for ransom, and then – using Joseph to lure the horse into the cave – seal them both in forever before leaving Nevada for good.

Ben shuddered.

It had been close. _Very_ close.

"Pa?"

The older man stirred. He smiled at his son's gravely voice. Paul said it would mend in time.

"Yes, Joseph?" he asked as he went to sit on the table beside him. Of course, he had to shift Rogue out of the way first. The dog hadn't left Joseph's side since they'd brought him home.

He'd have to do something about that soon.

"I've been thinking."

The older man held back his smile. Adam would say that was a dangerous thing.

"What have you been thinking?"

Joe scooted up and then took hold of Rogue's brown fur as the dog rose and leaned on him. "We never figured out why the black mare shied when I said her name. You know – Mystery?"

Ben had thought about that – quite a lot – and he'd come up with an answer. The thought of how he arrived at it still chilled him. He was a practical man. Grounded. He was deeply spiritual, but he had no belief in the supernatural, in things like shape-shifters, banshees, and ghosts. The West was littered with such beliefs and they made men weak and sometimes dangerous, like Earl Stanley.

Still, if Joseph asked, he would be hard-pressed to explain what he was about to say in any other way.

Ben reached out and touched his son's curls. "Do you know what Mrs. Navarra's Christian name was, son?"

Joe's head shook. He still used gestures to save words when he could.

"Terese."

Ben had asked around, being careful to conceal how he knew what he knew of the woman. Terese Navarra, her neighbors said, had been a lovely vibrant women, loved by all who knew her. When young her sisters had given her a pet name, much as his boys did when they called each other 'older' and 'middle' brother. Terese had been the one who appreciated beautiful things, who loved to dance and sing. She was apparently quite fastidious in her appearance, so much so her sisters always addressed her with the title' 'miss', even after she married.

Miss Terese.


End file.
